


mil fantasmas (gritan en calma)

by LegaciesandMemories



Series: tales from the other side [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Body Horror, Gen, No Beta We Die Like Shisui, Uchiha Sasuke Needs a Hug, Uchiha Sasuke Sees Ghosts, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Yamanaka Ino needs a hug, Yamanaka Ino sees ghosts, Yamanaka Ino-centric, starring ESP bros Ino and Sasuke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegaciesandMemories/pseuds/LegaciesandMemories
Summary: Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mindshatters.The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.---In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.
Relationships: Uchiha Mikoto & Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke & Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Sasuke & Yamanaka Ino, Uchiha Shisui & Yamanaka Ino, Yamanaka Ino & Yamanaka Inoichi
Series: tales from the other side [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833907
Comments: 68
Kudos: 289





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> You ever get a fic idea that won't leave you alone? Here it is! I finally got back into the Naruto fandom a few months ago and I love ESP/Ghost AUs, so I decided to try my own.
> 
> Title is from Fantasmas by Ambar Lucid.

For all his genius, Uchiha Itachi had become well aware of the gaps of knowledge in his mind. He knew how to kill, how to steal and live and _thrive_ as a shinobi, and maybe that was the beginning of the issue; he had never truly been aware of anything else. 

If there was time to go back and shake himself and Shisui and every single person who ever wore the Uchiha crest, he would try to learn other things; he had always wanted to learn to garden—his mother grew beautiful flowers alongside tomatoes, because Sasuke loved the fruit more than anything else.

_(He wished he had learned to be a better brother; he wished Sasuke wasn’t so eager to learn to kill. He wished he could have taught his brother anything else. He wished he weren’t such a hypocrite.)_

He wished he was better at shogi, not for any sort of gratification, but the ability to strategize in a way that didn’t end with the cries of another fading soul. 

_What is the difference between a shinobi and a monster?_ He had asked Shisui. 

Shisui had given him a tired grin, but hadn’t responded. (He jumped into the Naka a week later.) 

Itachi stepped around Mother's bloodstained daisies. 

Death wound an intricate, loving grip around shinobi culture, to the point where so many shinobi sought adrenaline rushes as relaxation. Shinobi danced ceaselessly on a knife’s edge, simultaneously aware and flippant of the inevitability of the fall. 

What do you do if you’re made to cause pain? What do you do if you’re bred for the very thing that makes your soul ache? He glanced at the clock of a nearby empty house, an aunt or uncle, maybe, and his lips thinned. _What do you do when you run out of time?_

He ignored the blood pools, the chill of the air, and took a last look at his brother’s fragile body, before heading towards the trees. 

He had monsters to follow. 

* * *

Uchiha Itachi left his biggest mark on Konoha in the form of over 200 dead bodies. Men, women, children, infants. People with hopes, dreams, wishes, forever stained in the beaten paths of the Uchiha Compound. Babies who would never cry again, children who would never play and grow, teens who would never learn to stand on their own two feet. 

The human spirit had only so much capacity for betrayal. Restless, angry, and distraught over their end, over half of the Uchiha clan solidified into ghosts. 

There was danger in invisibility, and even more lurked in vengeance. 

The ANBU tasked to clean the compound and search for Itachi didn’t see the stream of black and red eyes glaring at the village. The ANBU tasked to clean the compound didn’t see the black and red eyes plucked from cooling bodies by blank-faced operatives. Hatake Kakashi suppressed a shiver as he came across the very last Uchiha survivor performing the defiant act of existing, unconscious but still _breathing_ in the mess of blood and bodies on the ground.

Some ghosts hovered by their clan’s only chance of salvation, Uchiha Sasuke, in the midst of a Tsukuyomi-induced coma. Some latched themselves to Danzo’s side, wailing and howling at decibels no living being could hear. 

But many ghosts, _most_ ghosts, wandered their village aimlessly, through walls and windows and doors. They flailed and screamed and _flew_ through the air at breakneck speeds, as if to escape the cold and clinical precision of Itachi’s blades. 

* * *

On the other side of the village, Yamanaka Ino got ready for bed. She had brushed her teeth, bid goodnight to her mother, and tried once again to convince her father, Yamanaka Inoichi, to have a sleepover, to no avail. He guided her through evening meditation, and the air felt just a bit colder, just a bit heavier than what she was used to. It made her long for her bed.

Ino settled into bed earlier than normal, after Daddy kissed her forehead and gave her the usual Yamanaka goodnight. “Sleep well, don’t let your mind wander too far.” 

She turned over and closed her eyes. In minutes, she was asleep. 

It would be the last dream she’d have for a while.

* * *

_Sleep well, don’t let your mind wander too far._

Something lingered in those words, heavier and more pressing than any little proverb, any silly lullaby. After all, the best fiction wrapped itself in reality.

 _Don’t let your mind wander too far,_ the Yamanaka told their children. 

Coming from a line of mind readers was its own burden. The mind transfer jutsu was not a kekkei genkai, but Yamanaka Ino’s ancestors had lived and breathed the jutsu—at this point, Yin release had etched itself into their bones. For a few talented children of the clan, being able to project your mind caused it to...wander, before being properly trained. 

That night, Ino’s consciousness wandered around her room shyly, not touching anything, just familiarizing itself with the space. A seemingly innocent action within the wards of the compound. Yamanaka minds were protected from every mental probe they could predict. 

Trying to wrangle a Yamanaka's consciousness back into their bodies was akin to trying to touch a dream cloud above your head. It was best to let the consciousness wander in a safe space than somewhere dangerous. 

So it's a wonder, a horror, and a curse all at once when the full force of the massacred Uchiha ghosts slam into her consciousness and took the projection into the cold night.


	2. what we leave behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't come out the way I wanted it to, but I didn't want to leave you guys waiting for much longer. 
> 
> Uh, warning for violence.

_She lay on the grass in the Yamanaka gardens, staring up at the cutest boy in the Academy, Uchiha Sasuke. Sasuke smiled at her, and held up a picnic basket. It was filled with onigiri and mochi, Ino’s favorite._

_She spread out a picnic basket, and they both sat. Ino smoothed the lines of her favorite purple dress._

_“Thank you Sasuke-kun!” she crowed. She took a delicate bite of the onigiri—she couldn’t_ eat _too much, after all, with her diet. The other girls would be so jealous that she finally got a date with him. He grinned again, and raised his hand. Ino’s breath caught as he pushed her bangs out of her face._

 _“Anything for you, Petal.” Ino felt her cheeks flood with color._ _Sasuke held a hand behind his back, and Ino craned her head to see it, but he kept moving._

_“What’s behind your back, Sasuke-kun?” He brought his hand around, and it was a beautiful bouquet of red and white roses. Love, purity, devotio—_

**T h e m e a d o w g o e s b l a c k.**

_Her heart is racing, and she’s running, but she doesn’t know why. She can’t seem to get enough air to her lungs. The cobblestones, always so smooth before when she would walk with Hiroki-oji and Katsu-oba are suddenly sharp stones blocking her path. She slips on a rock muddied by blood, and hits the floor with a strangely heavy thud._

_“Please,” she whispers. The voice is too deep, too male to be hers, right? “Please, Ita—”_

_A split second of searing pain to her throat, and she knows no more._

_*_

_“My son!” she croaks. The name floats to Ino in an errant bubble of information. Uchiha Asumi. 28. 1 child. Chuunin. Detective of Konoha Military Police._

_In Asumi’s panic, blood and chakra rush towards her eyes, and the world sharpens with clarity. She’s backed herself into a corner, literally—she upturned books and papers in her path, and her ankle is broken and awkwardly positioned in her sprawl on the living room floor. Red eyes turn to her, underlined by stark lines of stress. The face in front of her remains placid, unmoving._

_She had looked_ after _this boy. She had told her friends he was the pride and joy of the clan. The savior of the Uchiha. Shisui-kun’s shadow._

_Rumors had spread about how the boy killed Shisui, but Asumi had never believed it. Because the little weasel had looked at Shisui like Shisui held the secrets to the moon and stars._

_Looking at Itachi now, Asumi wonders where she had_ ever _gotten that idea._

_“My son,” she whispers, forcing herself to look into the cursed eyes they share. The air was thick with the scent of blood. “Please, he’s sleeping, Itachi. I can’t leave him alone.” She raises her hands slowly, like she’d been taught in the Police force when dealing with traumatised and belligerent shinobi._

_(Which one was Itachi? Both? None? Did she want to know?)_

_“Hiro-chan needs me,” Asumi murmurs. “Please let me—”_

_A flash of steel, a roar of pain, and the world darkens._

_*_

_A bloodcurdling scream interrupted the silence. Uchiha Ryu turned to his twin, Kato, heart scrabbling to his throat. From his position on his futon, he sees Kato swallow harshly._

_“Did you—”_

_“Mama,” Kato says quietly. Using the sound dampening chakra trick they just learned in the Academy, Kato gets up, and moves his sheet silently. Ryu always hated that Kato had been born first, just two minutes earlier and always holding it over his head, but for right now, Ryu is extremely ready to shut up and let Kato-nii take the lead._

_Ryu tries the same trick, but his chakra control has never been that great, and his blanket makes a soft sound as it drags on the wooden floor. Kato shoots him a glare, and he ducks his head._

_“Sorry—”_

_“Quiet.” Kato signs. Ryu thinks that’s what he signs—Kiyomi-sensei says he’s terrible at shinobi sign language. His nii-san shuts his eyes, and sticks out his tongue the way he does when he’s sensing chakra. “I can’t sense dad, but...I think...there are only Uchiha here,” he says, sounding befuddled. He places his hand on the door. “Let’s go find Mo—”_

_A door down the hall cracks quietly, like dad calling them down for dinner, and Kato turns to him, wide-eyed and pale._

_“Run!” he whispers. At the fear in his eyes, Ryu does not take the time to yell at Kato for being bossy. He immediately pivots, darts towards the door leading to the bathroom. He hears a crash, a dragging noise, then silence. All he can hear are Kato’s harsh breaths, feeling like smoke on the back of his neck._

_“I activated the defense seal Mama showed us, but it won’t stop him,” Kato murmurs. Ryu’s brow furrows as he maneuvers himself above the toilet. Him?_

_“Should we get her?”_

_Kato shakes his head, not looking him in the eye. “I don’t—I think it’s too late,” he whispers._

_They open the window to jump out. Ryu’s just gotten his legs in, and his breath catches._

_Bodies...so many, lining the ground of the district. He’s jogged out of his horror by Kato, jerking awkwardly at his back, before hoarsely murmuring, “Run, otouto.”_

_Liquid drips onto his neck. Ryu shakes at its meaning._

_Before he can drop, pain explodes at the back of his neck. His last breath leaves his body in a choked gurgle, and his limbs slacken. The last sensation Ryu feels is falling._

_*_

_Masae stretches, holding her back as her muscle stops spasming. She curses her age as her hands shake, spilling some of her brewed tea._

_Her body’s inevitable treachery has taken years, but she can feel it keenly in each tremulous step she takes, the rainy days she feels in her joints. Thankfully her vision never blurred with age due to Uchiha genetics. She doesn’t have the Sharingan, and she doesn’t want it, honestly—she’s had a lot of joys and regrets, and she’s fine with the way she remembered them. Besides, the people of her clan take too much pride in their damned eyes._

_Masae remembers the way her grandson would crow at the idea of awakening his Sharingan, bright eyes sacrificing hours upon hours to Amaterasu’s shrine in hopes of finally opening them. One glance at the flat, dead stare from that same awakened eye in the socket of his Hatake teammate, Masae knows that the eye cost too much headache, too much strife._

_Her days had become... too quiet, too still. Shrouded in black and red and not a single hint of orange. Her grandson was dead. The girl who she had hoped would be her granddaughter in law was also dead. The clan no longer watches the every step of her immediate family because she’s aged and she’s the last one left. With her daughter gone, Obito gone, and Masae on her last dregs of life, Uchiha Madara’s line will die out._

_A lifetime of skepticism for a grandfather Masae never met. She sighs into the curling wisps of steam from her cup. She thought she had outgrown her bitterness._

_At her second sip, she stills. The air has gone too quiet._

_The door to the house opens abruptly, and a figure wearing a swirled orange mask stands in front of her. Spiky black hair falls past his shoulders. He says nothing, simply standing and gazing at her._

_“Who are you?” she demands, putting down her cup. The man closes the door, and walks closer. A glowing red eye stares at her. She takes a step back._

_She may not be the most connected or beloved of the clan, but she’s still part of the Uchiha._

_“Help!” she shouts hoarsely. The man stops, and tilts his head. Spiky hair falls to the side._

_“No one can hear you.” The voice is deep, unfamiliar. But...that eye...that hair... No one’s hair grows the same way as that. No one living._

_A clone of Madara? An imposter?_

_She’s back against the wall._

_“What do you want?” Masae asks. The question isn’t for her, but for her prickly, stubborn, ridiculous relatives that she still loves above all else. Someone should have heard her. The fact that they didn’t...Masae grimaces._

_She has nothing to give him, and she has nothing to plead for. Masae has been running on borrowed time for ages._

_The man watches her, before casting an eye out to the room, the photo frames, hesitating on a pair of cracked orange goggles on the mantle. Masae narrows her eyes._

_“This world has not been kind to you, Uchiha Masae,” he says. Masae has not fully caught her breath. “Perhaps....the next world will be.”_

_And maybe it’s a penance, or punishment, or a last burst of mercy from the kami, but as her breaths begin to stutter, Masae sees….a future. The one she always would have wanted._

_Watching her little Obito marry Rin-chan, and living in a house with the both of them. Little Uchiha children with purple clan markings running around in the yard, while Rin-chan heads off to the hospital. Narumi, her beautiful daughter, full and whole and not rotting in some torture chamber in Kiri, watching her own grandchildren grow._

_As the world darkens, Masae focuses on that bit of orange, and she smiles. No matter what, she’ll see her family soon._

_*_

_“Just wait, Aki-kun!” Noriko sighs, like she has the past few weeks. Akihito is too tired to roll his eyes at his best friend. She swivels in her desk chair, looking up dreamily at the blank ceiling. “Soon, the Uchiha will rise once more.” A saying Akihito has heard too much of, if he’s being honest. The clan meetings essentially say the same thing over and over again._

_“Can we rise from our desks first?” He jokes, flipping a file closed. “This case is finished, I’m starving, and you owe me dinner. I want oden.”_

_Her gaze hasn’t moved from the ceiling.“We will rise from the ashes Konoha left us in,” she states softly, with glowing crimson eyes._

_Akihito blows out a breath. He still isn’t completely convinced about the coup, but...things had to change, hadn’t they? Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara came together for a peaceful village. If the Uchiha from the Warring clans era saw the way their utopian village treated their descendants, wouldn’t they want better?_

_Did the Uchiha not deserve better? For the future, for the next generation, to look their children in the eye and say they did their best? That they were not the monsters Konoha saw them as?_

_Neither of them hear the window open. They only turn, kunai raised, at an unseen, soft voice._

_“There is a bird in love with its death_

_Who, for the sake of a new beginning_

_Will burn itself alive.”_

_The clan heir stares at them, wakizashi dripping blood into the wooden grooves of the floor._

_In a flash, Noriko is on the floor, glassy-eyed, a kunai to the throat. Akihito stares, unable to do anything but ride the last waves of life due to a stab wound that cleaves his stomach in two._

_*_

_The images blur, the images mix. Some are incomprehensibly clear, to the point where Ino can see the splatter of lethal injuries on fallen leaves, the lines etched into Itachi’s face with stress and blood. Some replay, until Ino can almost recite the cries of the last Uchiha as they beg their scion for mercy. Time loses meaning. Seconds stretch to hours._

_A stab. A cut. A knife in the back, neck, throat. Crispening skin from fire jutsu, flames licking her skin efficiently and agonizingly slowly. The sensation of muscles twitching absent of a head to control movement._

_Above all, pain._

_And pain._

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* * *

Inoichi was _not_ having a good night. 

He’d been called into T&I maybe an hour after putting his daughter to bed, for what was the most horrific and mystifying event of his career.

He didn’t know what to call Uchiha Itachi’s actions. A slaughter? A massacre? What he did know was that a never-ending line of bodies was being picked up from the compound and prepared for cremation. There was no Uchiha Itachi to torture or interrogate, only his closest associates, but those were mainly Uchiha. He had already gone through Hatake’s ANBU squad with Ibiki, and the team was clean. Hatake Kakashi had noticed some stress from the boy, but what 13-year-old ANBU captain wouldn’t feel stressed? 

Uchiha Itachi was _13 years old._

Inoichi rubbed his head, and poured himself another cup of Hojicha tea. (What was this, his sixth? How long had he even been in T&I at this point? Was it morning already?) 

Itachi had acted alone, and to everyone else, he seemed to have snapped. 

But that...was highly implausible. No shinobi was truly mentally balanced—not even the Yamanaka could claim that, despite painstaking measures taken to mental health care. This career didn’t create or spare emotionally balanced people, but nothing about Itachi’s 3 years of routine psychological reviews had shown any sort of red flag. Itachi, if anything, seemed to be on the _more_ balanced end of shinobi on paper—introverted, but with a strong support system in the Uchiha, and healthy hobbies like gardening. _Quiet_ , his cousin Inomi’s evaluation read, _but generally peaceful._

Inoichi’s mind flashed to the pictures taken of the massacred Uchiha, and grimaced. 

Quiet, maybe, but nowhere near peaceful. One only needed to look at Itachi’s younger brother to see that. 

They called Inoichi in once the Hyuuga doctors noticed the wild brain activity and flaring nociceptors. Inoichi didn’t know what hellish genjutsu was put on the kid—he couldn’t get into Sasuke’s head without further traumatising the boy. All he knew was that no one had ever seen it before, and once again, Uchiha Itachi blew every single person's expectations out of the water. Uchiha Sasuke wouldn’t stop screaming—no chakra sedatives would help. They had to coat his vocal cords in chakra. 

Some Hyuuga doctors were focusing on seeing if closing tenketsu points could stop the genjutsu, but at this point, it seems like they’d have to ride it out, and hopefully heal the damage. Maybe Tsunade-sama could fix what was happening to the poor boy, but no one else could. 

_With the amount of trauma inflicted on that kid, some might say Itachi should have just killed him instead._

Inoichi flinched, but he allowed the intrusive thought its moment: the genjutsu itself, Inoichi suspected to be a torture method. Compounded with killing the rest of Sasuke’s clan and leaving the boy as the only one alive… may be a fate crueler than death. The Uchiha had always prided their clan above everything, and didn’t have allies the same way other clans did. It worked out fine when they had one of the largest clans, but with only the clan spare left… what would the soul-crushing trauma do to Sasuke? 

With the thought finally given its space, Inoichi placed it on a shelf in his mind, and focused on his next steps: treatment plans. 

The Yamanaka and the Uchiha may not have been friends, but there was no reason to leave a newly orphaned, traumatised boy floundering in the aftermath of his clan’s murder. That wasn’t the Konoha that the Yamanaka had signed up for a century ago. 

He’d have to send the plans to the Hokage for approval, now that Sasuke had no parents to confer with, but he’d take up the case himself, if the best Yamanaka weren’t available. To borrow Shikaku’s words, it would be a drag, but...the boy deserved support. If for any kami forsaken reason, Ino had ended up in a similar situation, he would hope that Konoha would help his daughter. 

In hindsight, Inoichi wished he could have buried that thought under cement. It was then that Ibiki rushed into his office, looking unnerved. A first, for Ibiki, and Inoichi had watched this man yield some of the most pained, impassioned cries he’d heard in his life. 

Inoichi rose, ready to respond to whatever emergency there was. Had Itachi come back? Did someone _else_ decide to murder their family? What, had he somehow ended up in Kiri overnight?

“You need to report to the hospital.” 

Inoichi’s eyebrow rose as he grabbed his belongings. “Did Sasuke-kun wake up?”

Ibiki shook his head. “Your daughter’s in a coma.” 

* * *

“—ad man. I will bury him beneath the floor. He’s _lucky_ Biwako-sama has already passed to the Pure Lands, because she’d be right here with me—” 

“Uh, Auntie Mikoto?” 

Sasuke groaned slightly, trying to open his eyes. The voices quieted immediately, and Sasuke wondered why Mother and Shisui were in the hospital with him. He’d had an awful nightmare, and there’s still blood flashing behind his eyelids. He needed to see something more than red and black immediately. 

“Mom?” 

His eyes finally cracked open, and Sasuke immediately knew something was _terribly_ wrong. 

Shisui and Mother, for some odd reason, seemed to float above the floor. Their bodies were translucent, and Sasuke could see the windows behind them—it looked like mid-afternoon, but hadn’t it been nighttime? 

A flash, and Shisui suddenly had no eyes, and Mother had a chest wound dripping blood over her dress. 

Sasuke flinched back into the bed. _What…_

“Ah, Uchiha-san! You’re awake!”

Sasuke’s eyes moved from his family to the nurse in the corner, looking at him the same way Mother did when he twisted his ankle two years ago. He looked down at his legs, and they didn’t seem to be broken—he mainly felt stiff. 

“Uh, yes?” he said back, confused. The nurse straightened some of the machines, looking oddly sad. 

“The Hokage will be here in a moment to speak with you.” The nurse paused, before saying, “I am extremely sorry for your loss.” 

_Loss?_ The nurse had left, and from the corner, Mother snarled. Sasuke had never heard her sound so angry. 

“That’s it? That’s all they’ll say? _Sorry?_ ” She had moved closer, and Sasuke noticed the air had grown cooler. Mother reached a shaking hand to Sasuke’s bedsheet. He followed the motion with his eyes. 

“ _This_ is what they would do for my sons?” 

The hand passed through the sheets. A thought churned in the back of his mind, deep, dark, and foreboding. The nightmare: the blood, Mother and Father's bodies. Itachi’s wakizashi. Watching, over and over and over. 

_You lack hatred, Sasuke._

Had he lost his mind? 

“What happened?” he whispered to himself. His voice sounded awful, like he just had a cold. She gasped, and when he looked up, what seemed to be tears filled her eyes, but they were dark and appeared less like water and more like blood.

“Oh, Sasuke—” 

The door creaked open. 

The Sandaime, a man Sasuke had only seen at the Academy entrance ceremony, peeked his head in the door.

“Sasuke-kun? Can I talk with you?” 

It’s not like Sasuke could say no. He nodded, and the Hokage straightened his robes, before taking a seat. Mother hissed and stepped away from him. 

“It appears that a great tragedy has befallen the Uchiha,” he started, “And I would like to say I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“ _Liar,_ ” Mother screeched. The word echoed in his ears. 

_Loss. Loss._ Sasuke mouthed the word nonsensically. It had started to lose meaning. The Hokage droned on, more for hearing himself speak than Sasuke. The hallucinations in the corner hissed and seethed. 

“Your brother was a deeply troubled individual—” 

A demonic screech pierced the air, and Sasuke winced. It sounded like a multitude of things at once; cats scratching a chalkboard, people arguing, kunai scraping bottles, and harsh winds slicing at his eardrums. 

“Shisui.” His mother's voice was sharp and tired. The noise stopped, and Sasuke waited a moment for his ears to stop ringing. 

Sasuke’s fists bunched in his sheets, and he ducked his head. The Hokage took this sign to stop talking. “I apologize, Sasuke-kun. You must still be tired.” 

He finally looked up at the man, and the Sandaime looked perfectly regretful. This man wasn’t the ‘monstrous, hypocritical, spineless excuse of a man’ the hallucination with his mother's face was shouting in the corner, along with a bunch of curses that she would _never_ say. The hallucination of Mother in the background ready to slice the Sandaime open was just that, a hallucination. His brother had lost his mind and killed the clan, and in the process, made Sasuke lose his. 

Sasuke never did have the best of luck. 

“I am,” Sasuke said, and blinked rapidly. He sounded like he had lost his voice. The Sandaime put a hand on his hospital sheets.

“We are here for you, Sasuke. Please, never hesitate to reach out if you need help.” 

“That _bastard—”_

“Auntie!”

Sasuke glanced over to the corner, where the wound on Fake Mother's stomach flashed in and out of sight. Fake-Shisui held her as she sobbed. 

“My sons,” She whispered. “My poor _sons_.”

The Hokage, despite talking for what must have been over ten minutes, continued. Sasuke would stay in the hospital, guarded by ANBU to make sure Itachi wouldn’t be able to come close to him and hurt him (at this, Fake-Shisui let out a sharp bark of laughter). He was excused from the Academy for the time being, until he felt ‘ready enough’ to go back. ANBU were clearing the compound, so Sasuke could return by the end of the week. 

“Heartless cowards,” Fake Mother raged. 

“They’d put him back there?” Fake-Shisui whispered, incredulous. His eyes flashed in and out of sight. Blood spilled down his translucent cheeks. “Is he _joking_?” 

To answer Fake-Shisui’s question, no, he wasn't joking. A week of medicine-induced sleep and Tsukuyomi-induced nightmares later, Sasuke found himself walking home to the compound, wearing an uncomfortable set of new clothes. He could almost feel the absence of the Uchiha fan on his back. 

And the compound…

Cats wandered around the complex, yowling and hissing. The air was _frigid_ and the houses were dark. 

But the compound was loud _._ Loud and familiar just as it was before.

Auntie Katsu spoke to Uncle Hiroki in front of the empty dango stand. Aimi-chan and Fusao-kun in the Academy year above him ran around the park. Countless Uchiha roamed the compound, some he had never seen before, but still had the pale skin and sharp eyebrows and dark hair signature of the clan.

Had he hallucinated everyone? He couldn’t have, could he? He didn’t know at least a quarter of these people. 

The crowd hushed as he was escorted to the gates by ANBU. 

“If there’s anything you need, flare your chakra, and we will be able to help,” An ANBU in a cat mask said. Sasuke didn’t mention that he didn’t know _how_ to flare his chakra. The rest of the ANBU squad left, leaving only a tall man behind, wearing a dog mask. 

The ANBU said nothing, to the point where Fake-Shisui made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, sighing, “C’mon, taichou. I know you don’t do emotions, but say something. _Anything._ ” 

The masked ANBU did not listen to Fake-Shisui. Neither did Sasuke, really—over the week, he had learned not to react to his hallucinations, no matter what they said. Mother stayed by his side, and Shisui came in and out. Sasuke mostly stared into space to avoid sleeping, not realising time had passed until a nervous nurse poked him to eat. 

(Fake Mother sang by his bedside when he woke up with the shadows of blood behind his eyelids and Itachi’s words ringing in his head. He pretended her voice wasn’t the only thing keeping him from screaming himself hoarse.)

The ANBU, after a moment of silence, took off. Fake Shisui made a wordless noise of outrage. 

“Leave it, Shisui,” Fake (?) Mother said. “We’re here for Sasuke, and Sasuke only.” 

That sounded like something Sasuke might hallucinate, but it didn’t stop the hope spreading through his chest as he walked through the compound, finally making it towards his house. If somehow, _somehow..._ they were all still here….

“Mikoto-sama!” 

“Mikoto, how is your son?” 

“That damned _weasel—_ ”

The demonic screech was back, seeming to come from both not so fake Shisui and not so fake Mother. The sound clawed at Sasuke’s ears, sounding like a drill in his eardrums. It was so much worse than before—Sasuke felt like ripping his ears off. His muscles clenched, and he clapped his hands over his ears. 

“Stop,” he begged, looking towards the floor. A cat padded over the front porch steps, curling around him. When had he curled up in a ball? “Please, make it _stop._ ” _Make it all stop._

The screams ended, and a hush fell over the translucent crowd. Sasuke buried his face in the light grey fur of the cat next to him, refusing to look up. _Wasn’t this Aimi-chan’s cat?_

He couldn’t hear the footsteps, but his arm radiated cold, as if he had stuck it in the freezer. He looked up to wide black eyes. 

“Sasuke,” Mother breathed. “You can see me?” 

Forgetting himself, Sasuke launched forward, and his whole body dropped 10 degrees. He shivered, flinching back. 

Mother looked like she had been struck in the face. 

“Mom,” he whispered. For the first time since that Night, tears began to fall. She was so close, so so close—

And he couldn’t even hug her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely cannot take credit for that little poem Itachi says. it's from Resurrection and Ashes by Adunis. The whole poem kinda worked for what I felt was Itachi's view of the Uchiha leading to the Massacre, but that part especially. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	3. what we take with us

What felt like years ago, Inoichi put his daughter to bed. He had been called in for the worst case of his career, and was only pulled away because his dear wife Nozomi could not wake Ino up, no matter how hard she tried. 

Inoichi stared hard at the pale form of the hospital bed. 

_Screami_ _ng_ , a clan member had told him as he arrived, haggard and tense. Nozomi wouldn’t stop screaming. The whole compound had been woken up. Ino slept peacefully as the clan carried her over Konoha’s rooftops at breakneck speeds. 

The doctor had passed around a lot of words in the time that followed: _Yin Chakra depletion_ , _low brain activity, approaching Yang Chakra exhaustion, high chance of impending organ failure._ The nurses had fluttered about the machines keeping Ino alive, only pausing to check on Uchiha Sasuke down the hall. 

While the heiress of a major clan being in a coma was no small matter, Konoha was in the middle of a bigger crisis. Uchiha Itachi had cut a swatch in life as Konoha knew it by killing the Uchiha clan, leaving only his younger brother alive. The lone Uchiha survivor had been in a coma as well, and the nurses tittered nervously as they put Ino and Sasuke-kun in rooms close to each other. 

No one knew what to make of two clan kids (clan heirs, now that Itachi finished his killing spree) being comatose. No one pointed any fingers, but _who knew_ what else Itachi did in the span of time after the Massacre. He forced himself to keep calm as he watched Ino breathe.

But Uchiha Sasuke woke up after a week. Ino did not. He left Sasuke-kun’s case in the hands of another clan member, suddenly unable to take on that charge when his daughter seemed to be fading before his eyes.

His breaths stuttered, and the world began to lose its distinct shape. _An oncoming panic attack_ , he thought distantly. He closed his eyes. Absentmindedly, Inoichi began to monitor his breathing. 

_Inhale_. The first thing he learned in T&I was that coincidences were rather rare. Somehow, the massacre and Ino had _some_ tie. _Exhale._ Uchiha Sasuke’s coma bore slight resemblance to Ino’s, with one glaring difference: Yin chakra. 

Sasuke’s yin chakra had been flaring with indications of mental strife: not great, but perhaps better than the alternative: Ino’s body had not a drop of yin chakra. _Inhale_. 

Despite it all, despite whatever terrible thing must have happened, Ino was still able to breathe on her own. Her Yang chakra was keeping her body going, the way it did for all Yamanaka clan members using the mind transfer. For all intents and purposes, Ino’s vitals displayed a use of their clan jutsu. _Exhale._

But Inoichi hadn’t _taught_ Ino the mind transfer yet, and no trained Yamanaka would ever stay outside their body for this long. Not on purpose. The risks were far too great. _Inhale_. 

He didn’t have to be a doctor to know that a body thrown out of balance with Yin and Yang chakra would begin to fail. _Exhale._ The situation was not good. When he’d done a cursory check of Ino’s mind, Inoichi had panicked at the lack of consciousness he’d found. _Inhale._ Her mindscape was simple like most children, mainly focused on their part of the Yamanaka Compound, but Ino—any proof of an avatar, any proof of consciousness—was _gone. Exhale._

 _Inhale Exhale._ Ino had a wandering mind, a mind that somehow, someway, had left the compound, far from her body. _Inhale Exhale Inhale_. Her body may as well be an empty shell now. _ExhaleInhaleExhale—_

A hand on his arm. “Stop, Inoichi.” 

Inoichi startled. How had he not sensed their chakra? Was he that out of it? 

He looked to the side to see Choza kneeling beside him. Across the room, Shikaku held a bento in one hand, eyes locked on Ino’s frail form. Inoichi could see that neither of them had really gotten a ton of sleep the past week either; they’re best friends, family at this point, and Ino was almost as much Shikaku and Choza’s daughter as she was Inoichi’s. 

Though well-meaning, he ignored Choza’s exaggerated breathing. Instead, he focused on the heart rate monitor, apathetically yet patiently reminding Inoichi that his daughter was alive every few seconds.

Inoichi forced himself to compartmentalise. ANBU were continuing their search for Uchiha Itachi and any evidence in the Uchiha Compound. The Uchiha would be put in the Bingo book. They’d find Itachi, and if he was the one who’d done this, he would be... _coerced_ into reversing any unseen damage. 

(He ignored the part of his mind that told him of the time slipping through his fingers, the potential permanence of Ino’s coma.) 

Once Itachi was found, Inoichi would have free reign to rip the kid’s mind apart _himself,_ clan prodigy or not. 

The world slowly bled back into shape and color. Inoichi fixed his eyes on Shikaku’s hand. 

“Why do you have that?” he asked. Choza frowned, and leaned back. Inoichi normally wasn’t one to ignore a breakdown, but his life had very suddenly become wildly irregular in the past week. 

Had it only been 2 weeks since Ino fell into a coma? Inoichi felt like he had aged 5 years. 

Shikaku held up the bento. “Nozomi said you hadn’t been coming home or eating enough.” He sighed, before walking closer. “There was some emergency at the flower shop, or she’d be here today. She dropped this off at Choza’s.”

That was right—they _had_ been more stressed at the shop recently. The daimyo had put in an order for his daughter's wedding, and the clan was working nonstop to fill the order.

_Ino had been so excited to work on the arrangements._

Ignoring the pang in his chest, he thanked them both and took the bento. Inoichi probably wouldn’t eat it, he felt too nauseous as it was. He must have looked terrible, and he hadn’t slept more than 5 hours in days. He objectively knew there was little he could do here, except watch her body slowly lose function, and there was little he could do to help in the search for Itachi. 

He was the head of T&I, the fifteenth generation of Ino-Shika-Cho, and never had he felt so helpless. 

“What’s the doctor saying?” Shikaku asked finally. Inoichi sighed. 

“Her Yang chakra has reached its threshold, thinly stretched as it is. If she doesn’t start to replenish her Yin chakra…” His throat closed off, and he waved a hand. Shikaku was far from an idiot. 

“Why isn’t her Yin chakra replenishing itself?” Choza asked. Inoichi stayed quiet. It was technically a secret, but...

“Is she doing a mind transfer technique?” Shikaku asked. At the look on his face, Shikaku rolled his eyes. “She’s your daughter, Inoichi. Everyone’s suspected something along those lines.” 

Well, if he had already guessed it, there was no use delaying. He grabbed a silencing seal from his weapons pouch and slapped it on the floor. Choza’s eyes narrowed. 

He waited for the comforting blue flash of the activating seal before saying, “You know how the mind transfer isn’t a bloodline limit?” 

Choza and Shikaku nodded. Inoichi dragged his eyes away from the floor, towards the window. The afternoon sun rays hit the tips of his fingers. What day was it? 

“There’s a component of the mind transfer that _is,_ technically, a bloodline limit, but it’s hard to put into words.” 

Choza tilted his head. “How so?” 

“Technically, _anyone_ can learn to project their minds out of their bodies,” Inoichi explained, “But the issue is willfully moving it. That’s where the Tether comes into play.”

“Tether? What does this Tether do?” Shikaku asked.

“It allows us to reliably send our consciousness out of our bodies and be able to retract it, without physical contact with our target.” Inoichi rubbed his head. A headache was slowly beginning to build in his temples. “Without a Tether, you _could_ project your mind, but it would just float aimlessly. It’s the reason we only project our minds in a straight line, and we can only do it from a limited distance. Our mind is running through the Tether.”

Shikaku’s brows furrowed. “So the Tether is the bloodline?” 

He nodded. “Yes. The first mind transfer required physical contact. As the generations passed, the Yamanaka were able to develop a tether of mainly yin chakra and a bit of yang chakra to funnel their consciousness out of their bodies. But the tether, if it develops early enough, can allow an untrained Yamanaka mind to...wander, once they fall asleep.” 

Choza’s mouth dropped. Shikaku didn’t look that far off, judging by his widened eyes. 

“An unconscious version of the technique…?” Shikaku breathed.

Inoichi drummed his fingers on the bento. Maybe he _should_ eat it, just to have something to do with his hands.“Yes. The Yang chakra in the body is less active while sleeping, giving way to more Yin activity. We can’t control the Tether, but we set up wards in the compound to keep the consciousness and Tether intact. A wandering mind is a good indicator of a future Yamanaka talent. It’s why we don’t discuss it—if people knew, they could try and devise a way to break the Tether, and harm the child irreparably.” He looked down. “Young minds are still developing, and Tethers are so _fragile_. If anything happened to cause the Tether to snap—” 

“Then the consciousness of a wandering mind would be set adrift,” Shikaku finished, and colour fled his face. “Inoichi, is there a way to mimic the effects of the Tether, or find her?” 

“You’ve been watching me do the mind transfer for decades. Have you ever been able to see my projection?” Inoichi snapped. Choza recoiled. He winced a moment later. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just, _we_ can’t see the Tether or the projection. I can hope Ino finds a way back to her body, but I’ve never seen or heard of a snapped Tether before. My clan members have combed our archives—it hasn’t happened.” His hands shook. “They’re still looking for another solution as we speak. We thought of putting her body back in her room, where _hopefully_ her consciousness would return if it could, but because her Yang chakra has almost completely exhausted itself, we don’t have that luxury.” _Inhale, Exhale._

“Inoichi,” Choza said, gruff and soft. Inoichi shook his head. He didn’t want to hear any comforting words right now. 

“The best we can do is keep her body alive so her consciousness has something to return to. If not…” He wouldn’t put the thoughts into words. 

“I don’t know what we’d do.” 

* * *

_The nightmares mixed. The screams that came from her did not have her voice._

_“Itachi, no!”_

_“Who are you?”_

_“You can’t hit him!”_

_“The intangible man has a Sharingan!”_

_She had black hair, brown hair. Brown eyes, black eyes. Tan skin and pale. Curly hair and straight. She had wrinkles, she was a toddler. She was a detective, she was a baker. It didn’t matter._

_She begged for her life, the life of her son, the life of her friend. She had asked Itachi 'why was he doing this?'_

_She threw kunai at a man who could not be hit._

_The nightmares blurred. The nightmares mixed. She was laying in her blood. She was stabbed in the back. She took a fireball jutsu to the face._

_She did not know a world without pain._

“—are you doing? Stop!” 

The voice was unfamiliar. It wasn’t coming from her, was it? What did her voice even sound like, anymore?

“Get off, guys! There’s something under you!” 

The pool of blood she was in faded. The sounds of screams melted into laughter. She blinked into the brightness of...the village? 

Nothing about her body felt right. She felt weightless and nauseous, as if she had jumping across rooftops shinobi style and left her stomach behind. 

Was it…another nightmare?

It looked like daytime. She couldn’t recognise where exactly she was, but it looked like the downtown area. People laughed and walked the streets. Peddlers sold their wares for families. 

There was no blood. There was no Itachi. There was no masked man. 

...Where _was_ she? 

“—sorry, I don’t know if you just formed...still no shape. That was my family. They're new too, and they can be a _lot_ , I’m sorry if they've hurt you in anyway—”

The man was still going. She tore her eyes away from the downtown. 

She could see... _through_ him, towards the man selling yakisoba at the corner. He was translucent, with familiar black hair, black eyes and pale skin. He radiated discomfort. He kept scanning his eyes over her face. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” 

Something above them screeched, and the sound pierced her skull. It sounded awful, like the sound of kunai scraping glass over and over. Once one finished, the others took up the awful aria. She flinched back into whatever alleyway she had ended up in. Behind her, what sounded like a chain rattled. 

“Ah, are you...okay?”

As she looked up, she lost her breath. 

It was a horde, but they weren’t insects. They _flew_ , but they looked vaguely human. Their faces all registered dimly to her, familiar and faint in a way she didn’t understand. They changed color, from black to red to grey to white, morphing in the rays of the sun. 

Now that she was looking, there was _more:_ some who walked the streets as if they weren't translucent, some who flew, some who seemed to morph from human to monster in the blink of an eye. 

“My name’s Shisui. Who are you?” 

She opened her mouth, and immediately shut it. _Asumi,_ she wanted to say, but that wasn’t right. _Chiaki. Akihito. Noriko. Hiroto. Ryu. Masae. Kana. Seiji. Chinami_. There were others, some she couldn’t remember, some she couldn’t forget. None of them felt like they fit. Not perfectly. 

But there was another, somewhere beneath the blood and the screaming. It was still hers, right? 

_Right?_

She swallowed, feeling vaguely strange about the lack of feeling the motion brought. Her throat had been slit. Could she still talk? 

“Ino,” she whispered. She couldn’t taste blood on her tongue. Odd. 

“Ah! Um, I think you’re floating away.” He reached translucent fingers towards her.

A flash.

_Pain behind his eyelids. The world was dark. The river drowned out their conversation._

_“You’re the only one I can count on, my best friend. P_ _lease protect this village, and the honour of the Uchiha name.”_

_“Shisui!” A familiar voice, but Ino had never heard it as expressive as it was then._

_Shisui could hear the heartbreak in Itachi’s tone. He couldn’t see him anymore, but he didn’t have to. This would kill Itachi more than anything else. He was sorry. But hopefully, Itachi could come up with a greater solution, with greater power._

_The sensation of falling, the crack of his back as it hit the water._

The man gasped, and jerked back, eyes wide. 

“What?” he breathed, incredulous. “Are you...are you still _alive?_ ”

His eyes flashed: black, then a painfully familiar blood red.

Blood in the streets. Swirling black and crimson eyes. A stab of pain. 

_No more. Please, no more no more no more._

Her eyes had closed, somehow. She tried to run, but her body did not agree with her. She couldn’t get her legs to work. The man shouted, but her body moved impossibly upwards. 

She...floated, over Konoha. She saw Choza-oji and Shikaku-oji leaving the hospital. Her classmates ran around in the Academy. She reached for them, but couldn’t direct herself towards them. 

She floated. She drifted. Behind her, a chain followed: it was golden, maybe a couple of feet long, and broken off at the end. She didn’t know what it connected to. Every time she tried to reach for it, it evaded her grasp. She felt like a cat trying to grasp its tail. 

The sun slowly began to fall in the sky. The translucent beings did not reach her, and she did not reach them. But she watched them. 

They...sparkled, in the darkness. Some gold, some white, some grey. Without the attention of the sun, the beings seemed to exude a light of their own. They were no longer so translucent. 

Ino wanted her Father and Mother. She wanted the Yamanaka Garden and all its flowers. She wanted her family. She wanted _home._ She moved with the wind, it seemed, or maybe some invisible current. She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t direct: she moved without thought.

Somehow, Ino had ended up at the Academy. Her feet still wouldn’t cooperate, but she was closer to the ground. A few beings sat at the benches, radiating white and chatting.

“—ng is a mess,” One sighed. She flipped brunette hair over her shoulder. Beside her, a man wearing a large old cloak snorted. His clan markings wiggled. 

“What do you expect? The Yamanaka are about to lose their heiress. Even if they choose another clan heir, the 16th generation of Ino-Shika-Cho is _fucked_.” 

“Shut up, Akimichi,” the last woman said. She looked oddly like Shikaku-oji, but she hadn’t seen the woman at any of the Nara dinners. She glared at the man with glowing eyes. “You’re not helping.” 

“Do you think it was the Uchiha?” The brunette asked, worrying her lips. 

“It seems like all roads lead to the Uchiha, these days,” The Nara woman sighed. Her form flashed white, and an arrow protruded from her neck. 

Behind Ino, her chain jerked, and she went sprawling. 

“Watch where you keep that thing!” a voice behind her shouted. She couldn’t reorient herself to apologise. “I swear, newbies don’t know proper etiquette—” 

“Is that Ino-chan?”

The group of three was staring at her, wide-eyed. The brunette woman opened her mouth, and an awful screech came from her, just like the horde of ghosts from before. 

Ino couldn’t move back. Her body floated uselessly. 

The woman came forward, and Ino could see she had pupiless blue eyes. Just like hers. 

“You see me?” she breathed. 

Pupilless blue eyes flicked behind Ino. 

“I apologise, yurei-san,” she murmured, before bowing. “She must have just formed.” 

The man, ( _Y_ _urei?_ Ghost _?_ ) scoffed, and Ino heard no more. She assumed he walked away. 

“Ino-chan? Yamanaka Ino?” The woman asked. Ino nodded. She took in Ino’s form with something that could only be called dismay. Her eyes lingered on the chain that had followed her, and the woman made a soft noise of grief. “What happened to you little one?” 

Ino opened her mouth. Cleared her throat. She thought she didn’t have blood in her mouth, but she felt like the minute she spoke, she would feel the burn of her throat. 

“Ah, you’re floating away!”

The woman took hold of the chain, and Ino felt a shiver run through her. Her unconscious flight stopped. She gazed at the woman in wonder. 

Her lips pursed. “We need to get you back to your body. You want to wake up, right?” 

Ino nodded. If waking up meant the nightmare would be over, she never _ever_ wanted to sleep again. 

Her relative(?) looked behind her. “Shikari. Chokichi. I’ll talk to you later.” 

The Nara woman, Shikari, waved lazily. “Don’t get yourself in trouble, Hitomi. We’re already dead as it is.”

 _Dead._ Ino flinched. 

The woman—Hitomi—spoke as she led Ino through the village, but Ino didn’t answer. This was a nightmare, wasn't it? They were walking closer to the center of the village, even though the Yamanaka compound was the other way. Around the corner, she saw pale skin and black hair, and she flinched. Hitomi stared at her silently. 

“I don’t want to touch you directly,” she said as they walked farther. I think you’re still able to pick up memories from the mind transfer.” She smiled sadly. “Wandering mind, huh.” 

Ino shrugged. It sounded like the goodnight her father gave her every night, but Ino had never taken that too seriously. 

They were in front of the hospital doors, and before Ino could react, Hitomi dragged her _through._ She didn't feel the doors as they passed through her.

“What are we doing here?” Ino whispered. Hitomi’s eyes sparked. 

“I knew you could talk, Ino-chan,” she teased. She sobered a moment later. “Your body isn’t at the Yamanaka compound anymore.” 

Not at the compound? Where had the nightmare taken her?

Hitomi‘s legs left the ground, and slowly, she pulled Ino through the floors. She saw mothers cradling new babies, a kunoichi having her leg reset, and a man on an operating table. 

More than that, there were more translucent figures. 

Women and men who crowded around hospital rooms. Shrill, demonic screams at the sound of a flattening heart rate. So many figures, in fact, that Hitomi had to shove them out of the way as they walked down the hallways. 

They slowly approached a hospital room. 

Hitomi paused for a second, then guided them both through. 

She stared at her body clinically. She looked weak. Her blonde hair lay in greasy, matted lumps on her pillow. A myriad of machines had been hooked up to her body. 

Next to her bed, her mother slept in a creaky hospital chair. Ino’s heart twisted. 

“You’re going to be fine, Ino-chan,” Hitomi said softly. “It’s going to be just fine.” 

She didn’t know if Hitomi was convincing herself or Ino. 

(It didn’t work either way.)

Hitomi guided her closer, and Ino could feel the beginnings of a pull. As Hitomi dropped the chain, it began to creak and twitch, before falling limp. A link fell off, hitting the floor with a soft _plink_! and disappearing. 

“Ah,” Hitomi said, looking vaguely nauseous. ”That’s not...what usually happens.” 

Now that she was closer, she felt almost magnetised to her body; she walked the remaining two steps to her bed on her own, staring at her pale form. 

There was no time like the present. Soon the nightmare would be over. 

Closing her eyes, Ino breathed out and fell into her body. 

* * *

Sasuke took a bite of his breakfast, and immediately his eyes began to water. He reached for a cup of water frantically, almost spilling it on his mother's fingers. She laughed at his strained expression. 

“I told you you added too much pepper, Sasuke,” She said warmly as he guzzled the glass. Sasuke had tried to make himself grilled salmon and rice, with Mother floating in the background to direct. On one hand, the rice came out perfectly. On the other hand, the salmon was dry and spicy. 

Mother raised a hand to ruffle his hair, and the hand passed through. Sasuke pretended he didn’t hear her sharp inhale. 

It had been a week since he had returned from the hospital. Judging from the reports from his cousins, he was still being watched by ANBU, especially ‘that Hatake bastard’. 

He didn’t know who that was. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know. 

In many ways, it was easy to pretend that nothing wrong had happened, that he was just eating and getting ready for the Academy with Mother. Father had most likely gone into work early, and Aniki would be on a mission. 

Sasuke swallowed roughly, and the fish scraped his throat as it went down. Mother made a small noise of concern. 

“Has...has anyone seen Father?” he asked, not looking up from his fish. He already knew the answer. 

No one had seen Father since that night, after they had finished their meeting to discuss the impending coup (and wasn’t _that_ a conversation when he found out how his clan felt about Konoha). 

The ghosts had raged, hissing and seething at the mere mention of Danzo and Itachi. 

With neither of those in reach, the ghosts placed their blame on Shisui. They screamed and Shisui screamed back. They argued, they turned the air to ice with their fighting. 

“Clan betrayer!” they hissed. Shisui had let out a demonic screech. Sasuke clapped his hands against his skull. 

“I didn’t know this would happen!” He shot back. “I thought he could use my eye on Danzo, or the Hokage, or ideally, his new Mangekyo ability would be able to help.” 

“You sided with the enemy!” 

“I sided with the _village,_ ” Shisui hissed, looking angrier than Sasuke had ever seen him. His eyes spun, red and livid. Blood spilled down his cheeks. “I sided with the village, because the village was my home _._ The village was supposed to be the clan’s home as well.” his mouth twisted. 

“You are a fool!” one of Sasuke’s oba-sans replied heatedly. Her form flashed, and her skin was burnt beyond belief. 

“You _broke_ Itachi,” Shisui shot back, and suddenly his clothes were drenched. He dripped water to the floor. Translucent puddles muddied the ground. “Your clan heir, your hopes and dreams. Your spy for the Hokage. _I’m_ the foolish one?”

Blood spilled from his now sunken eyelids. “Look at me,” Shisui said, broken and bitter, “And tell me that there was _anything_ about Itachi or me that would make you think we’d willingly go along with a coup.” 

They fought through the night, until Mother ordered them to leave because Sasuke couldn’t sleep. 

(Not that their fighting was the only reason. Sasuke’s nightmares consisted of his parents dying, over and over and over, the bodies of his family hitting the ground. He could still see blood in the lines of the floor, where the compound hadn’t been cleaned out properly.)

The other Uchiha came back eventually, spitting and seething but willing to stop. Shisui rarely came back, only coming to drop off new Uchiha ghosts in the village, drop in on Mother and Sasuke, and take leave again. Sasuke didn’t think ghosts slept, and he didn’t know what Shisui got up to when he left at night. 

All he hoped was that Shisui would return with his father. But each day, that hope seemed to fracture. Mother had tried to tell him that maybe Father had been able to pass on, but Sasuke didn’t believe it. She didn’t look like she believed it herself. 

From what he could tell, most of the Uchiha he knew were there. He didn’t know everyone well, but the ones he did know were there to help him get through the day, or cook dishes, or watch him train.

He wasn’t hiding, Sasuke told himself. He was simply…recovering, in the words of Mother. 

She had told him not to go back to school until he was ready. ‘Ready’ was a strange term, baseless and meaningless to Sasuke. What was normal? Hadn’t Itachi taken normal far from Sasuke’s grasp? 

What even _was_ recovery? 

The compound was cold but full. Sasuke had either lost his mind, or Tsukuyomi had changed his Sight, according to Shisui. He wasn’t sure what was a better option. 

A small, irrational part of him believed that if he left this bubble, for the Academy, or for the market, he would return to nothingness. The real world would make his family go away. 

He didn’t want that. The Academy wasn’t worth that. Groceries weren’t worth that. Anbu could get him what he needed, right? 

Sasuke’s eyes caught on a dark patch in the grooves of the floor. Dirt, from when he was training, maybe, or blood. Mother’s lips thinned. 

“What do you want to do today?” She asked. Sasuke shrugged, still not moving his gaze from the floor. 

He wanted to clean, like he had each day this week, but Mother would cry again as he lost himself in scrubbing the floor. Hours would pass, with Sasuke dousing the wood in cleaner and trying to get the spots out, but they never went away, no matter how hard he tried. 

“We could go to the garden,” she suggested. 

Another shrug. The garden was outside, right in the line of Itachi’s attack. The flowers were probably covered in blood. Sasuke couldn’t scrub those. 

The training ground had been far away from everything that happened. He sighed. He didn’t really want to do anything but sleep and clean, but maybe he could throw some shuriken around. 

_Aniki was going to teach him how—_

Sasuke shook his head, imagining he was burning the thought with a fireball. That wouldn’t help. He didn’t like thinking of Itachi, Hokage’s orders or not. He didn't like thinking of the Sandaime either. 

“Sasuke!” 

He turned to see Shisui phase through the door, something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to. Between his family and Anbu, the idea of privacy was laughable. 

Shisui smiled, closing both eyes. He seemed happy—maybe he hadn’t run into Sasuke’s other relatives. He turned to Mother. 

“How are you Mikoto-oba?” 

Sasuke didn’t see her reaction, but Shisui winced. “Right.”

“How are you, Shisui?” she asked softly. She didn’t seem to harbor the same resentment towards him as the others. 

Shisui rubbed the back of his head. “I had the weirdest run in with—I don’t even know, honestly. But I found a bunch of ghosts who had been flying around the village.” He looked away. “I haven’t found Fugaku-sama yet, but I’m still looking, I promise—” 

“It’s not your fault,” Mother said, placing a hand on his shoulder. She looked resolute. “Don’t put that upon yourself.” 

“If I don’t, who will?” Shisui responded tiredly. He turned his gaze back to Sasuke with a painful grin.

“Well Sasuke, it looks like my schedule is clear for you.” 

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Your schedule is _always_ clear, Shisui.” 

With a laugh, Shisui held his hand right over Sasuke's head, sending cold waves through him. He glared at his cousin. 

“Last I checked, your shuriken needed some work,” Shisui said casually. He nodded his head to the back. “How about I give you some pointers?” 

Shisui wasn’t Itachi, and maybe that was the point. He didn’t have to be. 

Sasuke couldn’t help a small smile, and scrabbled to grab his equipment. 

Maybe the floors could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the kids are _not_ alright. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	4. connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your kind comments! Quite possibly the funniest (and most frustrating) part of this fic is that I have 25k+ in scenes written that I _can’t use yet_ because I haven’t reached there. Annoying, but we’ll get there eventually. I think about and add to this fic pretty much everyday, I swear.

A mix of things happened at once. 

Ino fell into herself, and the broken golden chain disappeared from view. The immediate weight of her body dragged her into exhaustion. There was something trying to beat its way out of her chest. She had been breathing before but not taken true account of the motion, now she felt the way oxygen scraped down her dry throat. 

A series of beeps seemed to echo in Ino’s ears.

“Ino?” Mom whispered. Ino couldn’t open her eyes. The _thing_ beating out of her chest was almost deafening. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, and any equilibrium she’d ever had had been washed away in this new state. A tube was in her nose, there was a needle in her arm that made her shift uncomfortably. 

Mother's chakra, weak and unfocused, flared messily. Ino heard frantic steps as Mother darted towards the door. 

“Doctor! Come quickly, please!” 

Ino was so _tired._ Her eyes were heavy, her limbs felt like lead, and the ticking time bomb in her chest _(which must have been her heart, but had it always been so loud?)_ offset her breathing every few seconds.

She refused to sleep, though. If the nightmare came back, the blood and the blades and Itachi and the masked man and those spinning eyes… she couldn’t do it again. Ino’s body shook. With concerted effort, she pried her eyes open. 

And what a mistake that was. 

Her eyes burned under the white hospital lights, and immediately her vision blurred. 

Her brow creased. She wasn't home. The nightmare...a woman, a relative named Hitomi had taken her here. Ino couldn’t see her now, though, so she had to be fake. Ino had always had strange dreams—why was this one following her after she had woken up? 

_Why hadn’t the nightmare gone away?_

Her head lolled to the side. Mother stared at her with wide, wet eyes. Her hair, normally coiffed and perfect, was in a messy bun. Her eyes were bloodshot. 

“Oh, Ino,” she breathed. Mother’s hand soon clasped her own, and if she had any sort of energy, she’d flinch. Sensation— _pressure_ —felt strange, unlike what she was used to. What she _had_ been used to. It was almost as if someone had scooped her out of her body and messily stuffed her back in; nothing felt anything like it used to. 

Moments later, there was a flurry of nurses; one testing her heart, another checking her lungs. 

They kept asking her if it hurt. It hurt, all of it hurt, but at least she wasn’t dying again. Itachi and the masked man weren’t killing her, so it was okay. _Right?_

“Ino, can you talk for me?” Mother asked. Ino hummed hoarsely, and soon a cup of water was gently held to her lips. She took a sip, and her throat spasmed as she swallowed. Her throat was not slit. She wasn’t choking on her blood. 

It was a nightmare, but she was still in a hospital bed. What had happened? 

“Can you say something for me, Ino-chan?” A nurse asked. Ino’s eyes flicked to her mother, who was kneeling by her bed. 

She didn’t want to talk. The doctor with bulging white eyes stared at her, before frowning slightly. He scribbled something onto a clipboard. 

“Please, Ino?” Mother whispered. 

“I—” she swallowed. “This is real?” she whispered. Mother’s fingers tightened around her hand. She gave Ino a wobbly smile, and nodded. 

“Of course this is real, sweetie.” Warm, trembling fingers ran through her hair. Ino couldn’t remember the last time she washed it. 

_This is real. This is real. This is real._

If this was real, then the nightmare was real too, right? The woman, Hitomi, was real? The man with the bleeding spinning eyes was real, Itachi was real, the masked man was real…then...  
  
“Is Itachi—Are they going to kill me too?” she whispered. The stethoscope the nurse held dropped with a clatter. Mother’s eyes widened comically. 

“ _What?”_

* * *

On the 15th night of Ino’s coma, after 15 days of wishing and praying for a miracle, a clan member burst into his room to tell him that Ino had woken up. 

Inoichi didn’t care that he had only gotten to sleep 3 hours earlier. He rushed through a haphazard attempt of making himself presentable, before using a shunshin to appear at the hospital. He immediately pushed towards his daughter’s room, ignoring the shouts in his wake. 

When he got to her door, Ino lay there, curled up in a ball, looking lost. Her hands shook, and she darted her eyes around the room, looking for something that perhaps no one but her could see. Nozomi spoke to her in a low tone, while the nurses looked on. 

Inoichi found himself trapped between elation and despair. She was _back,_ her mind had made its way to her body, against all odds. How damaged her mind had become in the process remained a mystery. 

“Yamanaka-sama!” A firm hand landed on his arm. He resisted the brief urge to rip the offending hand off. He just wanted to see his little girl. 

His gaze flickered to the man’s eyes. “Hyuuga-san.” 

“May I speak to you for a moment about your daughter?” And Inoichi would be a terrible parent to say no to that, no matter how much he wanted to rush into the room and hug Ino. 

He gave the man a cursory nod. “Of course.” 

“Thank you.” They walked down the hall, towards a few uncomfortable looking plastic chairs. Inoichi took a seat, raising expectant eyes to the doctor. 

“I wanted to discuss Ino’s chakra pathways. Ino-chan just regained consciousness an hour or so ago, but I’ve noticed some concerning discrepancies.” 

Inoichi’s hand twitched. More concerns? 

The doctor tapped his hands together. “To put it simply, Ino-chan’s chakra isn’t fitting together properly. Specifically, her yin chakra with her yang chakra.” He procured a diagram of the human body. He traced a pathway from the heart to the torso. 

“Up until an hour ago, her chakra pathways were running completely on yang chakra. Yang chakra, being produced and maintained primarily through physical activity, is usually the first chakra form to exhaust itself in coma patients. In Ino’s case, with no Yin chakra to spare, her Yang chakra was immediately used.” He looked back at Inoichi. “From visiting previous Yamanaka patients,” he said carefully, “I understand that this switch is common for your clan members using your jutsu.”

Speculation about clan jutsu was normally looked down upon. Hiden jutsu were kept secret for a reason. Inoichi had no issues pushing past this—there was no point in withholding information with his daughter at risk. 

Inoichi nodded. “That occurs for all Yamanaka members using the jutsu, yes.” 

“The issue occurs now when Ino’s yin chakra has been replenished. Her yin chakra is much more...volatile, than what we have in our previous records.” The doctor’s brow furrowed as he traced a pathway to the brain. “We’ll have to collect more data on her chakra to get a bigger picture, but I understand you’re probably more aware of the effects of yin chakra disturbances than I am.” 

Inoichi was. Yin chakra disturbances had been linked to attention problems, difficulty sleeping, mood swings, and much more. Many of the mental illnesses Inoichi had seen over time in his career had some degree of Yin imbalance. For Ino’s yin chakra to be so disturbed at her age… Inoichi frowned. 

“What are our next steps?” 

The doctor sighed. “You have to understand, Yamanaka-sama, it’s a bit more difficult to treat this case, due to its unique nature. Since Ino-chan was reportedly found in this state after falling asleep, we aren’t sure if this could happen again. Most of the Yamanaka doctors we have are psychiatrists and had limited knowledge of what could have happened. I apologise for the breach in decorum, but… is there anything you can tell me about her condition?”

Inoichi sighed out, and began to explain the concept of a wandering mind. The doctor nodded as he went on. 

“We’ve searched our archives, but we have no clue how to return a wandering mind to its body, but somehow Ino’s done it.” He didn’t know whether to be proud or concerned. 

“Is there a way to stop the mind from wandering while it’s still in a Yamanaka’s body?” The Hyuuga asked. 

Inoichi sighed. “None that we know of. What we know is that it’s increasingly easy for a mind to wander in times of high yin activity. Daydreaming and sleeping being the primary conditions.” 

“If that’s the case…” The doctor scrawled a note on his pad. “Maybe if there’s a way to increase Yang activity to match Yin activity...but during sleep that would be near impossible…” The doctor trailed off, before wincing slightly. Inoichi zeroed in on the motion.

“What?” 

The doctor stared at the chart intently. “If this phenomenon happens every night, until we can find a more permanent solution, maybe....chakra inhibitors would help.”

Inoichi could feel his eye twitch. “Chakra inhibitors. On my 7-year-old daughter.” 

“It’s not ideal, but she needs restorative sleep, and a lot of it,” the doctor said helplessly. “And the inhibitors will be removed in the morning, so her chakra can flow normally. It should help her chakra system get back to equilibrium. If she cannot sleep on her own without her mind projecting itself, creating a condition of minimal yin and yang activity should allow her to rest.” 

Inoichi did _not_ fidget. He had no desire to outfit his daughter in the same inhibitors he put on the prisoners in T&I. Chakra inhibitors were never used on allies for a _reason—_ the prisoners who had been in T&I for even a month had damaged chakra systems. After a while, those damages were not reversible.  
  
Increasing Yang activity… he’d have to ask Choza if his clan had any sort of solution. Choza and Shikaku—they’d be able to figure something out. They _had_ to. 

“But if we can find a way to increase her Yang activity…” 

“It would be a miracle,” the doctor finished, “but a miracle that’s unlikely to occur tonight. We would need to—”

“NO!” A hoarse scream from down the hall. Before Inoichi could register it, he was back in Ino’s room. 

Ino had curled up in bed, flinching away from a nurse holding an IV bag, looking spooked. Nozomi grasped Ino’s hand desperately. 

“Ino-chan, you need to _rest—_ ”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” Ino said, shaking. Inoichi couldn’t stomach the clear panic in her voice. Her eyes flitted around the room as she wrapped herself in the sheets. “Please, they’ll kill me, _please—_ ” 

_Inhale, Exhale._ He walked closer to the bed with wooden legs. Ino’s head turned immediately.

“Daddy,” she whispered, before bursting into tears. Inoichi held onto her as she cried desperately, raising a hand to stop the nurse from replacing the IV bag.  
  
“The doctor noted that she’d need to sleep,” the nurse tried, looking at Ino in pity. “I’m not sure if—” 

_Give me a mi_ _nute_ , he mouthed over Ino’s head. The nurse nodded, before leaving the room, shutting the door with a quiet _click._

He stroked Ino’s hair with one hand, murmuring comforting affirmations. Ino’s body still trembled. He reached out for Nozomi with the other, channeling yin chakra to his palm. 

For all their social skills, the Yamanaka clan always preferred to communicate with their own using their minds. It was easier to understand someone’s precise emotion, as well as relay memories. This Yin manipulation, something every Yamanaka was raised on, helped as a precursor to the mind transfer as well. 

_What happened?_ He asked Nozomi. A flash of emotions hit him—panic, shock, fatigue, hopelessness—as soon as he felt the cool touch of Nozomi’s yin chakra with his own. 

_I think she believes that Uchiha Itachi is going to kill her._ Inoichi heard Ino’s voice asking if Itachi was going to kill her too. 

His suspicions were true—this was no coincidence. He couldn't stop the rage that involuntarily made its way to Nozomi. A resounding call of rage matched his own. 

_Itachi did this?_

He tried to give himself space from his emotions, the way he had learned to when he took up the reins in T&I. Now was not the time to explode. Inoichi had thought Itachi had some sort of tie, but if he had used some sort of genjutsu on his daughter… 

_No one knows. She refuses to sleep._ There was an underlying note of heartbreak in Nozomi’s tone. _Inoichi, what do we do?_

 _Listen,_ he replied. _That’s all we can do._

He rubbed his thumb against Nozomi’s palm, before he slowly withdrew. He could see the way Ino’s condition had dragged on her, the stress that carved lines into her face. Between the flower shop orders and being here, Inoichi knew Nozomi hadn’t slept well the past few weeks either. 

“Blossom, who do you think is going to kill you?” Inoichi said gently, voice barely hitching over ‘kill’. Ino burrowed her head into his chest, sniffling. He continued to run his fingers through her hair, taking out the tangles he could find. 

Ino’s head finally jerked, and Inoichi could see Ino’s blotchy face. Her eyes still ran with tears. 

She raised a shaky finger, and Inoichi could feel the tingles of yin chakra. Remembering the doctor’s worried face, and Ino’s chakra system, he wrapped his hand around the finger. 

“Your chakra is a bit off right now,” he said softly. “I need you to talk to me verbally, okay?” He didn’t want to risk Ino’s yin chakra (and by extension, her consciousness) being disrupted anymore. 

Ino’s face crumpled. She stared at a corner of the room silently.

“The masked man. Itachi,” she finally whispered. “If I go to sleep, I’ll die. I don’t want to die anymore.” She looked at Inoichi the same way she looked at him when she wanted to stay up for an hour longer, or walk around the Yamanaka Gardens with her cousins before doing homework. 

“Please don’t make me sleep, Daddy.” 

Inoichi swallowed the rise of hate he felt for Uchiha Itachi. “You need to sleep. Otherwise you won’t be able to get better.” 

Ino shook her head. “I don’t wanna.” 

“Please, Ino?” 

“No.”

At least she hadn’t lost her stubbornness. Inoichi caught the way her eyes fluttered, before she pried them back open with herculean effort. 

“But you’re tired,” he reasoned gently. “Me and Mom are going to be right here, okay? We’re not going anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to her clammy temple. She felt like she was running a fever.

“No one will hurt you while we’re here, okay?” 

She searched his eyes, looking for something. Finally, she nodded slowly. 

Inoichi smiled. “That’s my girl. I’m going to get the doctor, okay?” 

Ino said nothing. He tried to believe she would be back to her old self in no time. But he was a master interrogator, he cracked open minds for a living. He had seen Ino’s flat gaze in broken prisoners. He knew exactly what this could mean for her. 

Even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

* * *

Daddy came back into the room with two grey bracelets. He snapped them on Ino’s wrists as he explained that they would help her sleep. He was right. As soon as they came on, Ino could no longer keep her eyes open. She heard another voice, the nurse from earlier, adjusting something at her side. 

Mother hummed a lullaby as she threaded her fingers through Ino’s hair. Her nerves about falling asleep ebbed slightly.

Ino was so tired that she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into her sheets. Her breath evened. 

She was asleep, she guessed. 

Maybe. 

(not really.) 

She couldn’t move. Her legs stayed in place instead of kicking. Her fingers did not twitch no matter how much she tried to move them. She was trapped in a box, the box being her body. 

“I think she’s sleeping,” The nurse said quietly. Ino could not tell her she was lying. 

A sigh. “Good, I was worried.” Mother sounded like she was the one who needed the nap. 

“We want to keep her here for a few days and monitor her chakra pathways, to make sure everything’s okay. I want to be extra careful with those inhibitors.” A vaguely familiar voice—the doctor, maybe? 

“Thank you for your help, Hyuuga-san.” Dad said. Footsteps, a closing door. 

Mom and Dad were quiet. Maybe they were talking using their chakra, in the Yin Link. Daddy said she shouldn’t use her yin chakra, did that mean she wouldn’t be allowed to use the Yin Link anymore? 

She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk with her mouth anymore. Talking with her mind was easier. 

“Do you think she’s okay?” A familiar voice, one that would have made Ino jolt out of bed _if she could move._

“Well Hitomi, she’s in a bed, she’s clearly sleeping, and decidedly _not_ in a coma. What else do you want?” 

Ino was pretty sure Dad and Mom hadn’t left, so why weren’t they responding? Did Daddy call Hitomi here? 

A sigh. “This is serious, Shika. Her Tether broke. I don’t know what that means for her.” 

“There’s nothing else you can do for her,” A male voice this time. “You’ve already helped enough.” 

The voices continued to speak, and Ino remained lost. 

Was she asleep? Could she not see the nightmare, but hear it?

“C’mon, ‘Kichi, let's get the worrywart out of here. There’s a perfect spot around the corner for stargazing.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, it’s _Chokichi—”_

“If you’re going to have this argument for the fortieth time, we may as well go.” Hitomi’s voice was closer, somehow. Ino felt a cold touch on her forehead. 

“Sleep well, Ino-chan.” 

* * *

Inoichi found himself in a predicament. One that led him to the Hokage’s office hours before Ino woke, to speak to the council. 

He never truly cared for the council—they had an odd way of bickering over minutiae with no real solutions. Shimura Danzo, Utatane Koharu, and Mitokado Himura were born and bred for war, and it showed—they often made decisions with short term rewards, as if they were on the brink of conflict. 

The minds of older shinobi were horribly fascinating, and terribly tragic—only the strongest made it to the age of the esteemed Council, yet decades of conflict left them maladjusted in peacetime. 

He bowed lowly in front of the Hokage, noting that Danzo was not present. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Hokage-sama. I understand that this must be a difficult time.”

Even two weeks after the Uchiha had been killed, the mark it had left was catastrophic. Shikaku was run ragged trying to direct his Jonin into police positions to replace the lost forces. Some of the chuunin forces had been funneled into the police force as well. The public image of Konoha was in jeopardy.

The Sandaime nodded and gestured for Inoichi to sit in front of a cup of tea. “I must admit, I am surprised to see you here without Shikaku and Choza.” 

“I’m sure you’re aware of Shikaku’s… delayed enthusiasm, for mornings,” Inoichi said. The Hokage’s lips twitched. Shikaku _was_ the Sandaime’s Jonin Commander, after all. 

Shikaku was his best friend, but even Inoichi knew the man was a nightmare in the mornings, caffeine or not. He had tried to wake up Shikaku for this meeting as a de facto Council member, and even half asleep, Shikaku had been quite inventive with his language to strongly encourage Inoichi to leave. 

“Are we waiting for Danzo-sama?” Inoichi asked politely. It was odd, the man was usually on time for everything. The Hokage’s fingers stilled for a second, before he grasped his own cup. Inoichi fought the urge to frown. _A nervous tic_ —why was the Sandaime nervous about Danzo? 

“Ah, I’m afraid not. Danzo is unable to be with us, he has fallen ill,” The Sandaime said regretfully. 

“What brings you here this morning, Yamanaka-san?” Mitokado asked. Inoichi took a sip of tea, and started. 

“I’m afraid this isn’t a social visit,” Inoichi said first, meeting the Hokage’s eyes. “On the same night as Itachi’s killing spree, my daughter, Yamanaka Ino, fell into a coma. She just awoke last night.” 

The Hokage looked alarmed. “By the gods, that sounds frightening. Is she alright?” 

He paused. “I believe she will be,” he said slowly, because that’s all he could put his hope in, “but she has a road to recovery ahead of her, and some effects...” Inoichi swallowed. The question of Ino’s tether was still in play. “Some effects may be permanent. In waking up, however, I believe that Ino’s coma may have been caused by Uchiha Itachi.” 

Silence. Mitokado and Utatane stared at Inoichi steadily. The Sandaime sighed into his mug. “That child…” He placed the mug down. “Can you tell us why you believe this to be true?” 

“Shortly after waking, Ino was distressed about a masked man, and mentioned Itachi by name.” Inoichi tried to forget the panic in Ino’s voice. “I believe she may have been referring to Itachi’s ANBU mask.” It was incredibly impolite to discuss an ANBU’s identity, but it was also impolite to wipe out your family in one night. In any case, all knowledge on Itachi would be in the Bingo books soon enough.

“The details remain unclear, but I believe she may have been put in a genjutsu, similar to the genjutsu placed on Uchiha Sasuke. She believed that Itachi would kill her as well.” Inoichi fingers twitched with the urge to ball up his fists. 

The Sandaime looked like he had aged impossibly in the passing seconds. Despite the early morning, he began preparing a pipe. “This is heartbreaking news, Inoichi, and I’m truly sorry your daughter has gone through something so horrific.” he said. “Our Bingo Books will be updated in the next few days, and we have an Anbu squad dedicated to his capture.” 

“That is why I’m here,” Inoichi said, straightening. “I come not only on behalf of Ino, but the Intelligence Division. We have hunter-nin available to help with finding Itachi. On behalf of the Yamanaka Clan, I wish to add to the bounty for Itachi’s capture.”

Inoichi surveyed the faces around him. “It is my goal to bring Uchiha Itachi to justice,” he said coolly. 

The Sandaime stared at Inoichi for a moment, before bowing his head. “I admire the love for your daughter, and your dedication to our village. Would you mind giving me time to respond to you on these generous requests?” He blew out a plume of smoke. “No longer than a few days—we are still sorting through the aftermath of Itachi’s actions.” 

Inoichi nodded. He wouldn’t want to be in the Hokage’s position right now. “Of course. Thank you for your time.” 

He bowed once more, and departed towards the hospital. He had to be there to watch his daughter wake up. 

* * *

Sasuke took a look at his empty fridge, and tried not to frown. 

He had steadily been working through the food that had been available, but it looked like he’d need to go shopping. 

Shopping…. He didn’t want to go out into the village. Unluckily for him and his rumbling stomach, he didn’t have much of a choice. The ANBU tasked with cleaning the compound had barely touched the blood soaked floors, but they had cleared out the food in his relatives' houses.

Which was highly unfortunate. Sasuke could go for some senbei right about now. 

That thought stopped him in his tracks. He no longer felt all that hungry. With wooden legs, he walked back to his room, shutting the door with a quiet click. He knew Mother didn’t sleep, but he didn’t want her to worry this early in the morning—She already thought he either slept too much or not at all. 

He slipped back under his covers, facing the wall. 

There would be no more trips to Uchiha Senbei after the Academy. No more jutsu lessons from Father, who was still missing. No more Shisui carrying him on his shoulders, no more hugs from Mother. 

For all that his family was here, nothing was the same. The house remained cold, no matter how much he cooked, and bloodstained, no matter how much he cleaned. 

Sasuke pulled his covers up to his neck. 

He was the last Uchiha standing, so to speak. He didn’t know why Itachi chose him of all people; why not Aimi-chan, who was starting to learn the Uchiha kenjutsu and the Fire Dances? Fusao was better than him at shuriken. Izumi-san was really kind and always gave him dango, even though he didn't like sweets. 

Sasuke couldn’t look them in the eye and continue to live. At the same time, didn’t he owe them that much? To carry the Uchiha name in their stead? 

What did he do to deserve to be the one who lived? Why not anyone else? 

_Please, couldn’t it have been anyone else?_ He couldn’t carry the burden on his own.

“Sasuke?” A cold brush to his forehead. “Sasuke, it’s time to wake up.” 

“I’m still tired.” 

“It’s past noon, Sasuke.” Mother’s voice sounded strained. 

Sasuke blinked. It had been maybe 6 in the morning when he went to the kitchen. How had so much time passed with him staring at the wall? He actually felt exhausted. 

“Fusao-kun and Aimi-chan would love to see you.” 

Sasuke shook his head. Why? Why would they want to see him? How could he look them in the eyes as the last one left? They should hate him, and never want to see him again. He shouldn't get to live while they died. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Mother tried. Sasuke shook his head again. His traitorous stomach decided to rumble at the same time.  
  
“We can go to the market to get supplies.” 

Sasuke stayed quiet. Going to the market sounded like running a million kilometres.

“I can help you make a grocery list. You can buy as many tomatoes as you want, okay?” Her voice sounded more strained by the minute. 

He listened to the rain patter outside. It didn’t sound like it was pouring, but he didn’t want to leave his room.

(His room, his house, his compound. It’s all his now, isn’t it.)  
  
“Oh, Sasuke, I’m so sorry,” Mother gasped. He rolled over to see her dark tears, falling and splashing out of existence on the wooden floor. She rested shaking translucent fingers on his face. He closed his eyes, to chase the sensation, but there was nothing. No warmth, no citrus scent of her perfume. Just a cold breeze in an empty house.  
  
“We wanted to do right by you all,” she murmured. “But we were wrong. We were terribly wrong.” 

Sasuke stared at her for a moment. He had heard from the others, but— “Why did you want to go through with the coup?”  
  
Mother sniffed, and pulled her hand back. “What do you mean?” 

He looked down. “I know you wanted the Uchiha not to be hated, but—everyone had a specific reason, when I asked.”  
  
The relatives that watched over him, that told him how to activate the compound wards so the ANBU could only see his chakra signature and not Sasuke talking at air, all had their reasons. Hana-oba wanted to sell her wares outside the compound, where she could make a profit and not only charge her family. Noriko-san wanted to join ANBU like Shisui, but only a certain amount of Uchiha were allowed in the general shinobi ranks at a time. Hisao-san wanted to marry an Aburame, but her father wouldn’t agree to the marriage due to the Uchiha’s status.  
  
Some reasons were selfish, some selfless. Overall, the clan members who wanted the coup were reckless, and that was why the _entire_ clan was in this mess—babies and civilians and children alike. Being the last one alive wasn’t fun, but at least he was alive.

Her head tilted. “I’ll trade you: I’ll tell you my reason, if you go to the market.” 

Sasuke wanted to glare at her, but he _was_ hungry. “Deal.” he grunted. He started going through his routine. 

Mother seemed to struggle with her answer. “Besides the family…” Mother started, leaning back, “I had a best friend—a sister, really.” Her lips quirked. “She was on my genin team, and for a while, we did everything together. We fought through war together. For over a decade, she was always by my side.” 

Sasuke pulled his toothbrush away to frown. “What’s her name?” 

“Kushina,” Mother said quietly. “Her name was Kushina.” Sasuke caught onto the past tense. 

“What happened to her?” 

“She fell in love, and had a son,” Mother’s face went blank. “And she was killed the day her child was born, alongside her husband.” 

Sasuke gasped, inhaling spearmint. His eyes watered as he coughed around the gob of toothpaste in his throat. “What...what happened to her son?” 

At this, Mother’s face screwed up in anger. She opened her mouth, and a horrific sound like knives scraping glass escaped her. Sasuke cringed, and she immediately stopped. She took a few steps back and began to pace. 

“Sorry, Sasuke-chan, I just…” she trailed off, looking out the window. “Konoha left him to rot.” Her fists clenched. “I wanted to raise him here, in our house, as one of your brothers, but I was refused, multiple times, due to rumours and _slander_ ,” she spat. Sasuke was surprised by her vitriol. 

“There were others, others who were close friends with Kushina’s husband, who wanted to adopt him in their memory, but the Sandaime refused.” 

That didn't make sense. “Why would he refuse?” 

Mother hesitated. “Kushina’s bloodline had given her special chakra. This chakra allowed her to...hold, a burden, a _beast_ of immense power. When she gave birth, she was attacked, and this beast was unleashed upon the village, killing many people, including her and her husband.” 

Sasuke felt like he had been doused in cold water. “The Kyuubi attack.” 

She nodded. “Because her son had chakra similar to his, and because her husband ran out of options, he sealed the beast into their child, right before dying.” 

“But the Yondaime killed the fox.” 

A bitter laugh escaped her. “The Yondaime _wished_ he could have killed Kyuubi. No, Minato didn’t kill it. The Kyuubi can’t be killed. He sealed it away.” 

Sasuke’s eyes widened. It made no sense and yet…”He had a son.” Sasuke muttered through numb lips. He rinsed his mouth. “The Yondaime had a son. He _sealed Kyuubi_ into his son.” Was sealing really that powerful? How did the Yondaime seal a living thing into another thing? _Why_ would the Yondaime seal the Kyuubi into his son, bloodline or not?

Mother nodded. “Due to the power the Kyuubi had, the Sandaime believed that any clan adopting him would give that clan power. He forbade any adult from discussing the child’s status as the holder of Kyuubi. The child was given Kushina’s clan name and raised as an orphan.” 

They learned in class that the Kyuubi attack was 8 years ago. The Yondaime had a son who was 8 years old, and no one knew about it. Was he a civilian? Did he go to the Academy? 

“What’s his name?” Sasuke asked. 

At this, she smiled sadly. “Uzumaki Naruto.”

* * *

The news reverberated in Sasuke’s ears as he left the compound. 

Uzumaki Naruto. Class clown, deadlast, always getting in trouble Uzumaki Naruto, was the son of the Yondaime? The Uzumaki were a clan? 

Mother told him he couldn’t tell anyone, let alone Naruto, without getting in trouble. That was stupid. The whole thing was stupid. It wasn’t like Sasuke even spoke to Naruto anyway. Naruto maintained a one-sided rivalry all on his own. 

But…

 _I wanted to raise him here, in our house, as one of your brothers._

If Mother’s wishes had come true...he would have grown up alongside him. Naruto would have been the blondest Uchiha there ever was. Sasuke would have had a younger brother of his own. 

_Would Itachi have killed—_

He shook his head. No use in worrying over that now. 

The good news about leaving the compound, he supposed, was that he could confirm that his family wouldn’t disappear if he left. Mother stayed by his side and directed him towards the best fruits to pick, which ones to squeeze and which ones to leave alone.  
  
The bad news about leaving the compound was the realisation that the Uchiha were not the only ghosts around. Many flew through the air, others walked amongst the crowds, laughing with their friends or shouting at the living. They weren’t affected by the rain or the people passing through their translucent bodies.  
  
Sasuke tried not to look at them or Mother too much, but couldn’t help himself from glancing to the side every now and again. 

(He tried to ignore the piteous looks and murmurs around him. That didn’t work either.)

Along with fruit, he bought some meat, some vegetables, and a sizable amount of tomatoes. The owners of the stands gave him some items for free, and discounted others. Sasuke didn’t understand—half off tomatoes wouldn’t bring his family back from the dead. Still, he took the items, thankful that Mother reminded him to bring two bags with him.

There was a particularly loud group of redheads by one of the stands. They wore bells and ribbons in their hair, which rung loudly in his ears as they passed.  
  
“What’s the kid doing today?” One redheaded man asked. 

“He’s definitely trying to buy some fruit, but they keep hiking the prices,” Another wailed. 

“Someone ought to teach him how to garden,” the first responded.

“Like they taught him how to take care of himself?” A third chimed in, sarcastic. The bells in his hair rung almost accusingly. Thunder boomed in the sky, and the man’s form flashed. A kunai stuck out of his chest. Sasuke looked back at Mother, but Mother was intensely focused on the redheaded group, searching the sea of red and bells for something or someone. 

Sasuke was just about ready to leave when the stand owner selling fruits began to scream. She clutched her chest in alarm. “Thief! Thief!” 

Across from her, Uzumaki Naruto began to argue. “Am not!” His ratty bag waved as he flailed his arms around. The stand owner flinched. “You made it less cheap! I gave you what everyone else gave you!” 

The other stand owners murmured angrily. 

“Lousy kid—”

“—shouldn’t be out here.”

“Menace!” 

The butcher walked up to Naruto, mouth set in a deep frown. “If you don’t pay for it, you can’t take it.” He took the apples from Naruto’s hands, placing it back in the pile. The stand owner made a face before throwing the fruits into the garbage. Naruto’s face screwed up in anger, but his eyes shone. 

“I didn't do anything wrong!” 

The redhead ghosts began to screech. The sound scraped painfully in Sasuke’s ears. Maybe Sasuke imagined it, but the rain fell harder, less of a drizzle and more of a downpour. His bag of groceries was drenched. Mother’s bloody apron flashed in and out of sight.   
  
Naruto ran away from the market, towards downtown.  
  
“Come back to Konoha, they said,” a redheaded woman muttered. “The village has changed, they said.” 

“I’m going back to Uzu,” one said, “this is _ridiculous—”_

“Where will you go? The wreckage? There _is_ no Uzu to return to!” 

Mother placed a cool hand on his, only making the rain cooler. It looked like she didn’t find what she was looking for.“Let’s go, Sasuke, before you catch a cold.” 

“Who are they?” he said under his breath, pretending to take a rock out of his shoe. Mother sighed as she knelt beside him. 

“The Uzumaki clan.” Sasuke’s fingers twitched. So the Uzumaki were gone as well. He looked at her from underneath his bangs. 

“Kushina-oba wasn’t there?” He whispered.

Mother shook her head. “She may have passed on, like your father.” 

She didn’t believe it, he could tell. 

Sasuke finished fixing the invisible mistake. He hiked up his two bags, and turned in the opposite direction of the Compound, ignoring Mother’s small noise of alarm.

The thing about making choices for the good of the village or the clan was that when plans went wrong, it affected those with nothing to do with it. Aimi-chan. Fusao. The rest of the Uchiha children. The civilians.

Naruto. 

_I wanted to raise him here, in our house, as one of your brothers._

He finally found the blonde boy in an alleyway, shaking himself off from the rain. Naruto rubbed his eyes, and set off. Sasuke watched as he began making his way to a rundown apartment building. He got into an apartment on the highest floor. 

Sasuke shifted his feet. Behind him, Mother warned, “There’s a gag order, Sasuke. There is nothing you can do.” 

Sasuke went into the building, not stopping for the people who craned their heads to look at him. He trudged up the stairs, noting that 1) the elevator was broken, and 2) walking upstairs while drenched was incredibly miserable.

After five flights of stairs, he finally reached the top. He didn't have far to go before he heard Naruto's voice, chattering to...a frog?

Sasuke stood outside the door. Nothing he could do. What did he plan on doing? Unloading the entire truth? With ANBU still trailing his every move? That wasn't going to end well.   
  
After a moment of consideration, he took one bag off his shoulder, a mix of vegetables and fruit that hadn’t fit in his primary bag. Sasuke put the rest of his grocery money on the side, and placed the bag on the floor.

He wasn't that hungry anyway. 

Sasuke banged the door once, hard, and darted down the stairs, heart thumping in his throat. He didn't stop running until he had left the building, and he took a break in one of the alleyways. 

He didn't even notice he was smiling until he closed his mouth. 

Mother placed a hand on his head. She was crying, but she had a smile on her face. 

“I’m proud of you, Sasuke.” 

Sasuke ducked his head as he made his way back to the Compound. He wondered if Aimi and Fusao still wanted to see him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Uzumaki clan appeared. Love those guys. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! It's been a while, so this chapter is a bit longer than my usual length.
> 
> (Also, I got a comment on FF.net that I had stolen this story. I just want to put it out there that I'm also [LosingMidnight](https://www.fanfiction.net/~losingmidnight) on FF.net, just in case anyone was wondering. But if you see this anywhere else, that's 100% not me!)


	5. in memoriam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, the beginning of a plot? Who would have guessed?

On a base level, Sasuke knew it would look strange to any ANBU watching to knock on anyone’s door, but it felt incredibly rude not to. 

(They most likely thought he was insane anyway. **)**

After dropping off his groceries, he rapped on the door of one of the neighboring houses, trying to convince himself not to leave.

Mother floated behind him, silent but grounding. Sasuke’s stomach churned.

Here’s the thing: Itachi had Shisui, a best friend and a brother all in one. Sasuke had Fusao, and by extension, his twin sister Aimi.

(Itachi had held him in a genjutsu and told him to kill his best friend, which, similar to the whole ‘cling to your unsightly life’ thing, made no sense to Sasuke. Itachi had already killed them—who was Itachi thinking of? An Academy classmate? Making another friend for the sole purpose of killing them?)

Fusao was Auntie Hana’s son; a distant cousin, far from Grandpa Hikaku or Great Grandfather Izuna’s line, but close nonetheless, because he was born 10 months before Sasuke and was one of the closest in age to him.

“Come in!” Auntie Hana called. Sasuke turned the unlocked knob and entered.

The house wasn’t in disarray, but the still air and overly empty space disoriented Sasuke. He had been here too many times to count—the space was usually dominated by life.

(He refused to look at the floor. He wasn’t sure how much blood was left over.)

“Sasuke-kun!” Auntie Hana said, smiling. She looked the same as usual, hair pulled back in a bun, jonin vest on, only missing her sandals. If not for her transparency, or the way her neck dripped blood, Sasuke would think it was an ordinary day.

Sasuke could barely look her in the eye. He bowed, accidentally taking in the wood. With the lights off, it looked clean, but Sasuke felt like he could still see bits of dirt. Or blood.

His fingers twitched. _Would it be rude to clean up a relative’s home when their spirit lingered?_

An icy breeze interrupted his musings. Auntie Hana smiled as she kneeled down in front of him, “Are you here to see Fusao and Aimi?”

Sasuke swallowed and nodded wordlessly.

“Fusao! Aimi! I know you’re not sleeping this late!” she called up the stairs. “Sasuke-kun is here to see you!”

“Aimi’s outside, Mom!” a voice called back, familiar and calm as always. Sasuke’s chest ached. It had been weeks. He hadn’t come by, out of fear or guilt, but he _should’ve_.

Auntie Hana’s eyes rolled. She gestured towards the garden. “He’ll be down in a minute. Let’s let the kids play, Mikoto. Would you like to talk?”

Mother smiled, and with a cold draft on his cheek, she had floated away.

“You look really weird when you’re sad.”

Sasuke looked back at Fusao and scowled reflexively. His eyes widened a moment later.

Fusao had, somehow, activated his Sharingan, despite no one in his immediate family activating it before. Two tomoe swirled under a curtain of dark brown hair. He was in his pajamas, also barefoot like Auntie.

Sasuke’s vision blurred. “You got your eyes,” he managed. Fusao had dreamed of getting the Sharingan before; both of them had gone to Amaterasu’s shrine to pray for their eyes to awaken. His best friend stilled, eyes flashing red and black and red again, and a thin black line dripped blood down towards his neckline.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Fusao mumbled, already floating back upstairs. “Are you gonna stand there for the rest of the day? Aimi wanted to see you too.”

He walked up the stairs, trying and failing not to feel guilt. His fists clenched. It wasn’t _fair,_ none of it was _fair._ How was Sasuke supposed to feel anything but a sheer heaviness at Itachi’s choice?

Sasuke’s steps stopped at the first door on the right. Fusao’s room was messy. It never was before—Fusao _hated_ mess the same way he hated tomatoes.

There was blood on the wood, tacky and dried. Fusao’s comic books were on the floor. His bookshelf had toppled over.

Sasuke shook. “I’m sorry.” Now that the words were out, tears burst forth, and the dried blood became a crimson smear in his vision. Sasuke covered his face, suddenly ashamed of being in front of Fusao. “I’m so sorry.” His chest heaved.

“What are you apologising for? You weren’t the one who did it.” He could almost imagine Fusao’s drawn-in brows, the way his feet tapped the ground when he didn’t understand something.

Silence settled into the room. With nothing to do, Sasuke set about righting the space. The mess wasn’t _right—_ it was as if ANBU had found a body, taken it, and left.

The thought filled him with anger.

Soon enough, Sasuke was on his knees. He picked up the books, sorting them by color and alphabetical order. Fusao enjoyed reading much more than him, adventures and fantasies that he could lose himself in while all Sasuke wanted to do was train. If Fusao could read them, he’d want them in order.

Sasuke flinched as he felt another chilly gust of wind inches ahead of him.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

A sigh. “Don’t be such a _baby._ Look at me!”

Sasuke looked up then, because that was Fusao’s pleading tone, and it was the least Sasuke could do when Sasuke got to live and he didn’t.

Fusao tilted his head. His Sharingan faded to normal black eyes. “I’m still better at shuriken than you.”

Sasuke scowled. “I’ll get better!”

His best friend shook his head. “I don’t know about that,” Fusao claimed, pointing one translucent finger. “You haven’t even gone back to the Academy! Looks like I’ll be better than you forever.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

Fusao tried to raise an eyebrow like Auntie, but it just made his eyes open comically wide.

“When will you be ready? It’s been _forever._ ”

“It’s been three weeks!”

Sasuke took offense in the flat look sent his way. “Admit it, you haven’t thought of going back, have you?”

A rebuttal stuck inside his throat. He could lie, and say he planned on going back in a few days, when he was sure that everything had blown over, when he felt _better_ like Mother said _,_ but in reality...

There wasn’t a _better_ , was there?

It didn’t matter how much he slept, or how many of his favorite foods he ate, or how many times he woke to Mother singing his nightmares away.

They were here, but they _weren’t_. What apology could he give Fusao that would allow him to come back to the Academy with Sasuke? Why did Sasuke deserve to go to the Academy? Why _should_ he go to the Academy for a village that would leave him here alone? None of them even knew about his Sight—for all they knew he was fumbling in the eternal dark of an empty compound.

They didn’t care. Konoha didn’t care about the Uchiha. The Sandaime didn’t care, and had no issue lying to his face.

And though he tried not to, he thought of Itachi: what was nii-san doing? Where had he gone? _Why_ had he left Sasuke with a lie and images of his parents dying seared into his brain? Why couldn’t he have told Sasuke the truth if Sasuke would have been forced to live with the consequences anyway?

There was no better.

“You gotta go back, Sasuke,” Fusao said, floating next to him. “If you don’t, you’ll never leave here.” Fusao’s sharingan spun, then flashed out of sight, just like Shisui’s. Sasuke frowned.

“I…” Sasuke didn’t want to. Not in the slightest. But… he had to, didn’t he?

“The Anbu won’t leave you alone if you stay here. Besides, I need your help with something, and you can’t do it if you stay here.”

At that, Sasuke looked up. Fusao’s translucent hands were clenched.

“There’s something...wrong. Dad isn’t here, and he _should_ be.” Sasuke had noticed that. Fusao’s father worked in the Police Force with Auntie Hana. Where did he go? Sasuke didn’t think he’d passed on.

“When we…” Fusao’s eyes flashed, and blood dripped onto his shirt. “When we… _came back,_ there were a bunch of people missing. I know Shisui-san has been trying to find them, but Fugaku-sama isn’t here and Dad isn’t here and Mom says he may have passed on, but I—” he grimaced. Sasuke noticed the awkward way most of his family stepped around the word _death,_ but said nothing of it.

Fusao stared Sasuke down. “I _know_ he’d be here. He wouldn’t leave us.” Sasuke ignored the desperation in his tone, because Sasuke felt it too.

No matter how many unfamiliar faces he’d seen, there were others that Sasuke noticed weren’t there. Faces he was _sure_ he had seen when he’d come back to the Compound that had gone missing.

“Okay.” Sasuke swallowed. “Where do you think he is?”

Fusao shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think Aimi has an idea.”

He floated over to the window. “Aimi!” Fusao called. His face soon shifted.

“She’s dancing,” Fusao muttered. Sasuke ran towards the window, ignoring Fusao’s rolled eyes.

Fusao said she was annoying, but Sasuke thought Aimi was cool. As one of the girls in the clan, she was learning the Uchiha Fire Dances; a long series of dances mimed after the moves of the dragon and the phoenix, passed down from the very first clan matriarch to all the women and girls. The men would take up instruments to guide the movements of the women as they danced in a way that resembled the phoenix gathering sticks for her pyre, letting chakra build to their hands and fire erupt from their palms as they turned. Sasuke would try to mimic the fluid movements at clan celebrations, but he always flailed more than danced.

The dances were special, he knew; the turns looked eerily similar to the style Noriko-san used in her kenjutsu, and the flips looked similar to the taijutsu that Auntie Kimiko did. Sasuke was stuck with playing the boring shakuhachi.

(It was the one thing he did better than Itachi—Itachi _sucked_ at getting the rhythm right and playing the right notes in a way that came to Sasuke naturally.)

From the window, Sasuke watched Aimi finish a flip, and move into what may have been a funeral dance. The movements were slower, less frenetic than the ones of celebrations or feast days. She used no music, and Sasuke couldn’t really hear her, but Sasuke could tell she was quickly getting annoyed.

Her feet sometimes disappeared, and she floated. She flipped and turned as best as she could, but gravity could no longer bring her back down. Aimi could no longer channel fire to her hands and feet, and Sasuke could see how it grated at her. After finishing the positions she knew, she froze, and screeched. The sound barely reached Fusao’s room, but shivers still ran down Sasuke’s spine. 

“Done with your tantrum?” Fusao called. Aimi looked in their direction, and Sasuke could vaguely see her sticking out her tongue. Sasuke took a step back as she flew _through_ the wall.

Aimi stared at him for a moment, and Sasuke struggled to meet her gaze. There was a deep stain marring her dress—a slash that looked like it cut her in two. Sasuke swallowed painfully. 

“Took you long enough, Sasuke-kun.” 

Sasuke nodded to the bloodstained floor. More cold, and Aimi was suddenly in his face. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. 

Aimi looked at Fusao, frowning. “Has he been like this the entire time?” 

Fusao shrugged. 

“Since he got here.” Fusao shot him a look. “You also can’t knock on our door anymore. ANBU’s gonna think you’re crazy.” 

Sasuke shrugged. Of everything, that was the least of his issues. More than that, they… may not particularly be wrong. 

He looked back at Aimi, noting that her hair, for once, was out of her face, rather than nearly down her back like she normally kept it. She looked like she had been getting ready for bed.

“Fusao said you had something to tell me,” Sasuke prompted. Aimi’s smile wiped itself clean. She nodded. 

“You should sit down.”

Sasuke frowned, but sat at Fusao’s desk, moving the rest of the books out of the way. Fusao and Aimi exchanged glances before looking back at him. 

“You can’t tell Mikoto-sama about this, okay?” Aimi said seriously. Sasuke blinked, but nodded. He could keep a secret. 

“We think…” she started, then shook her head. “No, I _k_ now that someone… someone else was there, that night. Someone besides Itachi.” At the mention of his brother’s name, Fusao’s eyes began flashing wildly. Black then red then gone then red again. Aimi fiddled with her translucent thumbs. 

The news… rocked Sasuke. _Someo_ ne else? Who else could have killed… who else would have committed the Massacre? If not only Itachi, who else would have done it? _Why_ would they have done it?

“Itachi got me,” Fusao said blandly, like that wasn’t one of the worst things he could say. Sasuke noticed, with a sinking heart, that Fusao and Aimi no longer called Itachi ‘Itachi-nii’. He couldn’t blame them. “He got me and Mom. But Aimi thinks that—” 

“I _know_ it was someone else, Fusao.” Aimi stared him down. The wound on her stomach began flashing in and out of existence. It should have… worried Sasuke, how accustomed he was becoming to blood and shadows on his loved ones. 

Aimi floated back and forth, an alternative version of the pacing she used to do. “I only saw him for a moment, when he got Dad—” _Dad_ sounded less like a name and more like a demonic wail, and Fusao put a hand on Aimi’s arm. A hand that connected. 

Jealousy, rabid and senseless, struck Sasuke. He couldn’t even hug his mother or any of his family ever again. The sentiment immediately drowned in guilt. He was still alive, he couldn’t complain. Shouldn’t complain. 

“I saw orange,” Aimi whispered, not looking at Sasuke or Fusao. “He had long black hair, and I _think_ he had a Sharingan.” Sasuke stopped breathing. 

Another Sharingan… Another Uchiha who was alive. An Uchiha who massacred the clan alongside Itachi. Sasuke felt like throwing up. 

“Did anyone see where they went?” Sasuke whispered. Fusao shrugged. 

“No. They’re probably far from Konoha now.” His eyes flashed— _blackgoneredblack_ —maddeningly. “The adults keep telling us not to talk about it, that it’s done and we should just try to take it easy, but it _matters._ ” Fusao looked a little desperate. 

“What if he did something to Dad, and that’s why his spirit is missing? What if he’s the one making all the other clan members disappear?” 

Sasuke found himself arrested by the same urgency in Fusao’s tone. 

“What can I do?” 

“We think the clan disappearances are the other Uchiha’s fault,” Aimi said, eyes watering. “If we could find them, then maybe it’ll stop. Or maybe we can see _why_ they’re happening. Can you help?”

It wasn’t even a question she had to ask. For his family, Sasuke would do anything. 

Aimi walked him to the door. As he passed, she whispered, “I think the other Uchiha took Fusao and Father’s eyes.” 

Sasuke’s blood boiled. The idea that after everything, the clan couldn’t even rest peacefully, and would be chained to Konoha as spirits. The idea that someone _stole his best friend’s eyes_ as he died, and maybe others. 

“You think that’s making clan members disappear?” Sasuke mumbled at the door. Aimi nodded. 

“It makes the most sense. You don’t feel it, but we’re tied to our belongings. It’s like…. a pull. I can leave here and walk around the village, definitely, but I still want to come back. Or sometimes I’ll forget where I am and somehow end up here.” Aimi shrugged helplessly. “I’m trying to get used to it, but…” 

The unspeakable rested between them. _You shouldn’t have to get used to it. I’m sorry you have to, anyway. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._

Maybe Aimi felt the words that were weighing Sasuke’s tongue down because she shrugged again as if to say, ‘what can you do?’. He turned towards the door, but he heard Aimi’s voice again, with a distinctly hard edge. 

“And Sasuke-kun?”

He glanced back at her. Aimi’s eyes glowed—not with the sharingan, but a deep black, one that seemed to suck the surrounding light into her eyes. Sasuke had never been afraid of Aimi, not in the slightest, but at that moment he felt the urge to step back. The air had turned frigid, and some deep ingrained human instinct made the hairs on his arms rise. 

“If you see your brother again, can you punch him in the face for me? On behalf of me and Mama.” The weighty feeling retreated, and Sasuke felt like he could breathe again. Aimi was still staring at him, waiting for a response. 

And Sasuke, weighed down with guilt and obligation for the clan that no longer was, nodded. 

* * *

They wanted Ino to talk. They always did. Mama and Daddy kept asking for her opinion on things, for what she wanted to eat for breakfast, what she wanted to do today. Asking, Asking, Asking. 

She didn’t want to. Besides, Ino wasn’t sure if what she really wanted mattered. 

Her time in the hospital was _not_ fun. They did a bunch of tests on her—her chakra, her blood, her lungs. There were wires attached to her while she slept. She wanted to take off the grey bracelets at night—when they were on and she was asleep she _could_ n’t _move—_ but the nurses and the doctors wouldn’t let her. No one allowed her to use the Yin Link, and that hurt most of all. 

Some days Mama stayed with her, sometimes it was Daddy, but one of them was almost always there. Uncle Choza, Auntie Yoshino, and Uncle Shikaku came too—Uncle Choza always had the best mochi, and Uncle Shikaku told really good stories. 

A week into her hospital visit, after Ino had slept long enough to last her what felt like a _year_ , Auntie Yūko visited. Daddy nodded to Auntie, before gripping Ino’s hand. She smiled at Ino as she sat across from her. Ino focused on her freckled nose. 

“Ino-chan,” she said, smiling softly. Ino didn’t know what there was to smile about. Ino didn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t meet most people's eyes anymore. “Do you know why I’m here?” 

Ino shook her head. Auntie Yūko worked at the hospital, she knew, but other than that, she knew nothing. Auntie nodded next to her. 

“Well, Ino, we want to help you. You went through something really scary, and we want to help you feel better.” Ino nodded. Auntie moved her chair a bit closer. 

“To make sure we can help you the best we can, we need to see what you saw,” she said. “I’m going to use the Mind Transfer so we can see your memories.” 

Ino immediately refused. She didn’t want anyone in her head. 

Daddy gripped her hand tighter. “Blossom,” he whispered, the same soft way he always did now. “I can’t imagine how scary this is for you. I wish we didn’t have to do this, but as soon as we know what’s happening, the doctors can help you feel better, I _promise_.” Daddy looked like he was going to cry, and she really didn’t want him to. Whenever she went to sleep, which was less of sleeping now and more of passively hearing all the adults talk about her while she _couldn’t move_ or _dream_ or _anything_ , it always seemed like someone was crying. Mom. Daddy. Hitomi, the translucent woman who helped her back to her body. 

She didn’t want anyone to cry over her anymore.

“Okay,” she whispered to her bedsheets. Auntie Yūko thanked her, and told her to _lay_ _down,_ _it would be over before she knew it_. Ino fell back against her pillows, already tired, though she’d barely done anything in the past… well… three weeks, really. 

Daddy immediately slipped the grey bracelets on her wrists, and the same tiredness swept over her again. Ino didn’t look into Auntie Yūko’s eyes as she made the hand signs. She felt the prickle at the back of her head when Auntie Yūko entered her mindscape, and for a moment, everything went dark.

Auntie looked around her mental view of her room in the Yamanaka Compound. Ino could admit that her mindscape was a mess. There were books and clothes all over the place. Her stuffed animals had fallen to the floor. Auntie surveyed the place, saying nothing. 

Ino walked closer to Auntie, noticing that her chain, her Tether, dragged behind her. Auntie’s tether stretched behind her, taut and glowing a bright blue, into the shadows. “Are you sure you want to see?” She asked, because while Ino hadn’t been able to dream since what Daddy called the Uchiha Massacre, the things she saw were scary. She didn’t want Auntie to have nightmares about it.

Auntie nodded anyway. Ino walked over to her toppled bookshelf and picked up a book. She closed her eyes, and pushed the memories of what she saw into the pages, willing them to manifest. She couldn’t do the mind transfer yet, but Daddy had taught her these little things. Ino wondered if he would still teach her more. 

She handed the book to Auntie, and wandered to the living room. She didn't want to see them anymore. Ino already thought of them every day. (day, hour, minute, _second._ )

Ino walked around the living room. Stared at the wilting flowers in the kitchen. Every few days she would take a new bouquet from the flower shop to replace the one in the compound as one of her chores. She wondered who was doing it now. Maybe one of her cousins. 

As she turned, Ino tripped over her Tether and frowned at the broken chain. If she could still manipulate things in here, could she do the same for the tether? Ino frowned at the chain, and willed it to disappear. It didn’t. She tried to make it shorter. It stayed right where it was. After a few minutes of trying, she picked it up, and began winding it around her waist. There was nothing she could do about it now. 

What would happen now? When would they allow Ino to leave the hospital? 

“Ino-chan.” 

Ino turned back to Auntie, who was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read. She walked slowly, standing just a few feet away. Auntie’s eyes flickered to the chain around her waist, and her eyebrows pinched. 

“I’m finished. Are you ready to go back?” 

Ino nodded. Auntie made the signs for the release of the jutsu, and the world went white. She blinked owlishly on the bed. Auntie squeezed her hand, keeping her yin chakra far from Ino’s reach, before withdrawing. 

“Inoichi-sama,” she said, turning to Daddy. “Is **N** ozomi-sama here? Maybe she’d like to help Ino take a bath, or walk around the hospital gardens.”

It was something that Daddy and Mom were weirdly insistent on. They wanted her to sleep, but they also wanted her to walk around as much as possible. When Ino went to sleep, Daddy and Mom talked to the doctor about Yin and Yang Chakra, but she didn’t understand most of what was being said. 

“That sounds great.” Daddy kissed her head, and told her she was brave. Ino didn’t feel brave at all. 

When Mom came back, she helped Ino into the shower. By the time Ino was clean and dressed for her walk around the miniature hospital garden, Daddy and Auntie Yūko had left.

* * *

Inoichi followed Yūko out of the hospital room, out of the intensive care unit, and to the psychiatry unit. It was a smaller branch of the hospital, not as funded as the emergency care unit, naturally, but Inoichi always thought it was just as necessary. The Yamanaka who made up most of the branch agreed with him. 

Yūko said nothing as they walked through the branch, and Inoichi passed shinobi and children alike, some happy, some silent, some crying, and others incredibly detached. 

When they reached her office, a small room with only one window, Yūko locked the door, activated a silencing seal, and immediately took a seat. Killing intent washed over the space in waves. Inoichi’s muscles tensed instinctively. Yūko, a testament to her work as a psychologist, remained blank-faced and composed, though it felt like all she wanted to do was bludgeon the skull of the next person who so much as looked at her funny. 

“You said you gave the Hokage help in finding Itachi?” Yūko said finally, looking at him with serious brown eyes. Inoichi frowned, but nodded. The Hokage had accepted Inoichi’s hunter nin, but not the bounty. It didn’t make sense—Inoichi was ready to double Itachi’s bounty to bring him back alive. Surely an increased bounty would have helped in the efforts to bring Itachi to justice, but the Hokage didn’t follow his line of reasoning. 

“For what he’s done,” Yūko started, and the killing intent spiked, then receded instantly. She breathed out, rubbing her temples, before grabbing a pen and paper. 

“It’s worse than I thought. Much worse.” 

Inoichi’s heart clenched. All he had been hearing was bad news. 

“How bad?” Inoichi asked, fist clenched. “How much did she see?” 

Yūko exhaled harshly. “Almost everything. From what I saw, she witnessed at least 100 murders. About half of the Uchiha clan.” Inoichi’s blood ran cold. “I don’t know how Itachi’s time dilation genjutsu skills work, but some murders seemed to replay.” Yūko’s pen broke under the pressure of her grip, and she grabbed for another one, undeterred. “I… I can’t be certain, but it appears that Ino had to watch these murders for what felt like days, maybe most of the time she was in the coma.” The laugh that escaped her was pained and humorless. “That’s not even the worst part.” 

Of course it wasn’t. “What else could there be?” Inoichi rasped. 

Yūko’s fingers tapped against her desk. She breathed in for a count of four, held it, then out for a count of four. A classic decompression technique for stress. 

(It didn’t look like it worked.)

“She experienced them,” Yūko murmured. “Every single murder she saw, she experienced as if she _was_ the person. The emotion, the pain, _all of it._ She experienced it.” 

Inoichi’s insides twisted, and he immediately lost his lunch in the wastebasket. 

_Experienced?_

His daughter had….

She had looked Inoichi in the eye and told him she would die if she slept. For as much as they knew, she hadn’t had nightmares about the incident, but _by the gods_.

 _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale Exhale. Inhale Exhale Inhale. Exhale Inhale Exhale._ _InhaleExhaleInhale_ _—_

A feeling of compassion washed over him, starting at his fingertips and spreading through his body. Empathy tickled at his palm. 

“—safe. It is 11 AM. You’re in my office. You are safe. Ino is safe. It is 11 AM. You’re in my office. You are safe. Ino is safe. It is—” 

“I’m fine,” he rasped, pulling his hand away from Yūko’s grasp. A glass of water and tissues had magically appeared in front of him, and he cleaned his mouth the best he could. He tipped the glass to drink, and his hands, traitorous and trembling, spilled half the glass on his shirt. Inoichi swore under his breath as he mopped up the water. “Please continue.” 

Yūko gave him a mildly disapproving look. “We both know you’re not fine. You’re under a great deal of stress, Inoichi-sama—” 

“Ino is our priority right now,” Inoichi said, firm. He took his emotions, frayed and frenetic as they were, and shoved them to a corner of his mind. The world felt just a bit fuzzy, his hands felt…unreal, not-his. numb.

Compartmentalisation that bordered on dissociation. He’d take it.

Yūko looked like she wanted to disagree. "Inoichi-sama—"

“Please continue, Yūko.” 

Yūko sighed and moved her brown hair out of her face. “Itachi could somehow recreate the physical sensation of the murders in the genjutsu he used. The treatment plans I think can help would be a mix of those for shinobi who’ve survived extensive torture. She—” Yūko swallowed. “A lot of the murders were slit throats—I’m guessing so no one could scream and alert others. I’d bet that that’s part of the reason Ino no longer likes to talk. She has an aversion to eye contact from what I saw—Itachi used genjutsu while killing his family. All of that stress must have caused the broken tether. It’s completely snapped—she was wearing the broken part like a belt. It’s a miracle she made it back at all.”

Inoichi closed his eyes. “Was there any memory of Itachi casting the jutsu?” 

She shook her head. “No, just the murders themselves. There appeared to be some distorted hallucinations in there as well—Uchiha Shisui appeared to be talking to Ino in one of the memories, as well as a Nara, an Akimichi, and a clan member that I’ve never seen before, named Hitomi." Her brow furrowed. "Unlike most others, memories of this Hitomi seems to appear elsewhere, but only her voice." 

Auditory hallucinations as well? Inoichi frowned. There wasn’t a Hitomi in the clan, as far as he knew. 

"The hallucination somehow guided her back to her body, which is good. Subconsciously, she was able to find a way back.” Yūko scribbled a few more notes. “I’ll work on her treatment plan to start some sessions, hopefully in the next few days. Since family members can’t be therapists, I can get a non-Yamanaka to take her as a patient… I’m thinking twice a week, with art or play therapy that doesn’t focus on the verbal aspect as much. Did anyone tell you how long she would be staying here?” 

“No. The doctors aren’t sure what else to do,” Inoichi said, suddenly exhausted, “The chakra inhibitors keep her consciousness in her body, and she’s replenished her yang chakra. She has more yin chakra than she had before, oddly enough, and it’s not fitting together with her yang chakra, but it’s not hurting her. She’s technically ready to go home.”

Inoichi didn’t even know what to do once Ino was home. 

“The Akimichi have some pills that increase yang chakra production, but I really don’t want to put her on medication this early in her life,” he explained. “Shikaku and his clan are modifying the chakra inhibitors to target Yang Chakra in the body and cycle it—nothing that could be addictive, but would solve our problem of crippling Ino’s chakra. Shikaku said the clan should be done in a week or so.”

Yūko nodded. “It…. may be for the best to take her home. Have her around some friends, using as little yin chakra as possible. To be quite honest…” She looked hesitant. “I know you started the InoShikaCho training with Ino-chan, but…it’s looking like—”

“Ino won’t be able to do the Mind Transfer with a broken Tether, I know,” Inoichi finished. It was the most permanent consequence, alongside the trauma. “I don’t plan on teaching it to her.” He already hated leaving her out of the Yin Link. The Mind Transfer was one of the integral parts of the Yamanaka clan. 

Yūko looked relieved. She shuffled the rest of her papers together. “I think that’s it for right now. Once the Nara finish up that Yang bracelet, she could go back to school, hopefully gain some more normalcy.”

Inoichi nodded. Ino had a hell of a road to recovery ahead of her, but this… maybe things could turn out okay. A new thought came to him, and he frowned. 

“Did you take the Uchiha Sasuke case? I passed it off to another clan member once I heard about Ino’s coma. No one’s come to me about it.” 

Yūko frowned back. “I haven’t heard anything from anyone here.” Inoichi didn’t like the sound of that. The clan members who ended up at the hospital were good psychologists, psychiatrists, and therapists, but Yūko specialised in child psychology—she was one of the best, if not _the_ best. “We have monthly case briefings in a few weeks. I’ll keep you updated. Of course, confidentiality must be maintained for Sasuke-kun, but I can let you know when his treatment started.” She made another note. “That’s a tough case, I’m surprised no one’s come to me about it. I want to make sure that’s going well myself.”

Inoichi nodded. As long as Sasuke-kun was receiving help and Ino would start getting help, he’d be satisfied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My major thing about Itachi is while I can empathise with Itachi's intentions of peace, the idea that other kids and innocent people were a part of the clan makes me less sympathetic to his plight or his actions. Like, RIP if you're an Uchiha kid and not Itachi's sibling. 
> 
> Also, man, don't you just _love_ the therapy Sasuke's been getting? Inoichi is going to be so pleased when he finds out that Sasuke's getting help:))))) 
> 
> This chapter messed up my outline, but I wanted to clarify what Ino actually saw/felt in her 15 days unconscious. She actually experienced the massacre. These poor children...are not okay. Also, I've borrowed some Chinese mythology for this fic. I've tried to stick with Japanese mythology for most things, but the dragon and phoenix fit too well for me not to include it for some worldbuilding. 
> 
> The next chapter is actually almost done, surprisingly, so I should hopefully post at least once more before the end of the year. Hope you guys are staying safe and somewhat sane. 2020....god I can't wait for this year to be over.


	6. homeostasis

The month after Ino woke up went like this:

She stayed in the hospital for a week before being let out. Ino started talking to a lady named Mayu Tuesdays and Thursdays in the psychiatrist's part of the hospital. Mayu-san sometimes asked how she was feeling, or whether she was having nightmares, but most times, she gave Ino paper and crayons or paint and told her to draw. Ino liked that better than talking.

Daddy got her a sketchbook, and she drew the Yamanaka Gardens, the Flower Shop, and Konoha. Sometimes she drew Hitomi, but no one else recognised her. Other times, she drew… she drew Kato. Noriko. Masae. Itachi's dripping wakizashi, and the orange swirls of the masked man. Shisui and Itachi's eyes.

(She kept running out of red crayon.)

Mayu talked to her about what she saw. She said Hitomi may have been her mind's way of protecting herself from Itachi's genjutsu (Everyone kept saying genjutsu; she wasn't sure why. It all felt pretty real to Ino).

A week into being home, Uncle Shikaku gave her two black bracelets that slipped around Ino's wrists snugly. But the minute Ino put them on, her heart felt like it was racing, and her palms began to sweat. Uncle Shikaku said it would stop soon enough.

"These are your new bracelets, Blossom," Daddy had said. Ino was glad that the grey bracelets were off, but the newer ones made her feel hyper. She started wearing the bracelets in the early afternoon, so by the time she was ready for bed, her heart no longer felt like it was beating out of her chest.

Ino no longer felt as tired, but… she couldn't dream.

It still felt like something had trapped her in her body, most likely the bracelets. Daddy and Mom watched her sleep the first few nights, then only one of them stayed. She was tempted to tell them about how she didn't dream anymore, but they always looked worried. Ino tried to tell herself it didn't matter, even though sometimes the days blended together and sometimes it was hard to wake up with the bracelets on.

It was fine. She was fine.

She pasted on a smile, and shoved down her panic, until the world went a bit fuzzy at the edges, and her hands felt foreign. She'd be fine. Ino told her parents she wanted to go back to school—it made no sense to stay home with her cousins if they couldn't ever talk to her, not the way she was used to. They hugged her and held her hand but kept their yin chakra drawn in tight to their bodies, like she wasn't clan, like she was a stranger. They spoke, but Ino could no longer feel the color or strength of their emotions, leaving every talk 2 dimensional. She could talk like this at school with her other friends, and it would feel less awkward, because that was the only way they knew how to talk to each other. Ino really didn't want to think about the amount of school (and homework) she missed, but it was better than everyone staring at her like she was on death's doorstep.

Daddy didn't seem to want her to go, but allowed it after a week of her asking. She asked about InoShikaCho meetings with Shikamaru and Choji, and Daddy got a weird look on her face, but told her the meetings would look different now. He wouldn't be meditating in the Yin Link with her. She'd be focusing on her physical training. And it… hurt, because she wanted one thing to remain normal.

The first InoShikaCho meeting since Ino's coma went like this:

Shikamaru and Choji kept staring at her, waiting for her to do something, but she rambled about nothing the entire time, only stopping when she felt her throat go dry, a sensation a bit too familiar to Itachi's wakizashi slicing her (?) throat.

Ino spent a lot of practice running laps, and practicing taijutsu, way more than she did before. Daddy said her primary goal now was increasing her stamina.

It was fine. Ino was fine.

(She… She just wanted to take the stupid bracelets off. They were supposed to make things better, but she just felt worse.)

But it didn't matter, because she was going back to school, and her classmates would treat her normally, right?

_Right?_

* * *

The morning Ino headed off to school, Inoichi took the day off from the Intelligence Division to make her breakfast with Nozomi. His wife had been the one who stayed in Ino's room all night to make sure their daughter could wake up, and Inoichi wanted to help out.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Ino had come downstairs, in a lapse of quiet she now seemed to favor, with her sketchbook in hand.

Nozomi kissed her forehead as she sat down at the table. Ino gave her a small (plastic) grin as she whipped out some colored pencils.

"Are you excited for school, Blossom?" Inoichi asked, turning off the stove. He made omurice with extra cherry tomatoes, Ino's favorite breakfast, as he had been doing the past three weeks of Ino finally being home. She didn't look at the dish as he set it on the table.

Ino looked up, and the earlier smile overtook her face. "Yes!"

Inoichi smiled back to hide an almost instinctive frown. Her smile stretched wide, her cheeks had a rosy glow. But her eyes looked just a little flat, just a little dead. Maybe it wasn't clear to others, but Inoichi could see the effort it took, the lack of genuine joy that Ino always exuded before. It would fool almost anyone else, but Inoichi knew his daughter. She was too young to conceal her emotions with near-perfect accuracy.

Nozomi shot him a concerned look, most likely seeing what he had, before turning back to Ino.

"What are you drawing today?"

Ino looked back down. "Just some flowers."

" _Just_ some flowers?" Nozomi echoed, craning her neck towards the book. "What flowers are we talking about here?"

Ino's pencil twitched, and the book shut closed. "Nothing." She tucked into her breakfast quickly. Inoichi noticed she didn't ask for extra ketchup, or juice instead of tea, like she used to.

Nozomi's eyebrows pinched as she set her own fork down. "Are you sure you want to go back to class today? If you want to wait a while longer, that would be okay—"

"Daddy already told Iruka-sensei I'd be coming back today, right Daddy?" Ino asked, looking back at Inoichi. Inoichi sighed, but nodded. He had given Iruka a week's notice of Ino's return.

Ino swallowed. "I'm sure I've missed a bunch of class too, and I don't want to do badly on my tests." She pulled a face. Inoichi frowned. That was definitely an excuse—Ino wasn't a bad student, but she didn't pay as much attention to exams.

Ino shot up a moment later. "I'm done! I should go." Nozomi sighed in her chair, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

"You still have an hour before class, sweetheart. You can stay here a little longer."

Ino seemed to struggle with her response. Inoichi thought of the hidden flower drawing in Ino's sketchbook, her silences, the way she didn't seem to enjoy playing with her cousins anymore.

"Actually, Ino, I need your help with something. Can you come to the shop with me?"

Brown and blue eyes turned to stare at him. His daughter sighed a moment later.

"Okay." She pivoted and headed out, towards the Flower Shop.

Nozomi stood to follow, but Inoichi shook his head minutely. As he passed, he placed a hand on her shoulder, brimming with yin chakra. _I have an idea. I'll let you know how it goes._

She looked conflicted, but nodded, and began to clear their plates.

(Inoichi noted that Ino had only finished half her omurice.)

In the Flower Shop, Ino ran her hands along the counter, saying nothing. She turned to give him a blank stare as he walked inside. He knew he shouldn't compare his daughter to how she was before her trauma, but it was difficult not to. Usually, Ino would pick out different stems and try to convince Inoichi to let her make the bouquet to put in the front of the Compound, a treasured chore her cousins fought over.

"Would you like to play a game with me?" Inoichi asked. Ino's eyebrows scrunched, but she remained disconcertingly silent. Looking at the blank face made Inoichi seethe. Uchiha Itachi would pay. But now was not the time for vengeance.

"I want you to make me and Mama a bouquet every day, okay? Not for the compound, this is just for us." His daughter's eyes lit up, and Inoichi felt confident that this could go well.

"The only rule for the bouquet is that it shows how you feel that day. You remember the language of flowers, right?" Ino scowled, and Inoichi laughed. That was more like it.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the counter to one of the workstation tables, before placing a vase in front of her. "Remember Blossom, you can make the arrangement as small or as big as you want. Don't worry if you think the colors clash or not, if it fits how you feel, then try it." This was important—she was too young to close off her feelings.

Ino paused for a moment, pensive, before turning to grab an adonis stem. She twirled the flower in her hand, before walking determinedly towards the front of the store, the more seasonal flowers. She picked up canna, hesitating over the flower, before taking two stems. She looked back up at Inoichi.

"Are you finished?" Ino wrinkled her nose, and shook her head.

With that encouragement, she took some apricot blossoms, then marigolds. She hovered over the Judas Tree. Her hand shook as she picked from the small bush. She walked back towards the front of the store with her gathered flowers, picking a sprig of lavender and mountain laurel on the way. Ino hummed as she placed the flowers in the vase before arranging them. Inoichi watched Ino work as he ran the hanakotoba through his head, the flower language as natural to him as his spoken tongue. He clenched his fist behind the counter.

After a few minutes, she stepped back and looked at him expectantly.

"Thank you, Ino. It's beautiful." There was a lot he could say about it, but none of it was important or appropriate right now. He took the vase and guided them both back to their house. Ino wandered upstairs to finish getting ready for the Academy.

Nozomi turned from the kitchen to the table, took one look at the flowers, and her eyes widened. "I don't—did someone die?" She walked closer to the bouquet, and her eyebrows shot up at the Judas tree. "The Tsuchikage, maybe?"

Inoichi sighed and motioned for his wife to follow him to the family room. He picked at a pillow and saw how Nozomi tracked the motion. She was aware of his nervous quirks, just as much as he was cognizant of hers. To borrow Shikaku's phrase, it was troublesome, having a wife who could get inside his head without the use of their clan jutsu.

"Mayu mentioned that play therapy was working well with Ino, but Ino appears to have an issue with emotional detachment. With Ino closing herself off…" he trailed off, before shaking his head. "I had this idea that Ino could tell us how she was feeling through bouquets." He tapped the sides of the vase tiredly. "This was the result."

Nozomi raised a trembling hand to the flowers. Ino was her daughter, after all, so the colors still matched, and looked like a summery bouquet you could see at a wedding, if not for the heavy meanings behind each flower.

Adonis, _sorrowful remembrance_. Apricot blossom, _grief_. Marigold, _despair_. Canna, _paranoia_. Judas tree, _betrayal_. Lavender, _silence, distrust_. And most confusing of all, mountain laurel. _Ambition, treachery._

The genjutsu torture had truly taken its toll. Inoichi could understand the meanings objectively: the grief for the Uchiha, the anxiety of Itachi coming back, the silence from the feeling of being killed. But why the Judas tree and mountain laurel? Why would Ino feel betrayed? He glanced at Nozomi, and his wife teetered on the verge of tears. Inoichi stood, walking over to grip her hand.

 _We'll get through this_ , he said to her mind. Nozomi radiated doubt. He couldn't lie, he was doubtful too. _We'll be there for—_

A knock at the door caught his attention. Brow furrowing, he stood and opened the door to see Yūko, looking like she was ready to kick someone's face in.

"Inoichi-sama," she said curtly. "Do you have a moment?"

* * *

"Ino-chan! I heard you got really sick. Are you okay?"

Ino forced a smile at Ichiko-chan as she set her books down. Her classmate stared at her with wide grey eyes, along with the rest of her friends. There was no part of her that wanted to talk about it. Not now. This was supposed to be the normal part of her life.

"Yeah, I was sick, but I'm fine, now!" Ichiko didn't look convinced, so Ino continued. "You can tell me about everything I missed." She peered around the room, taking in everyone, from Kiba's puppy to Shikamaru face down at his desk to Naruto, flicking balls of paper around the room. "What did Honoka-chan do to her hai—"

The door opened, and Uchiha Sasuke stepped in. The room quieted immediately.

Sasuke didn't look at anyone as he found his seat, towards the back of the classroom. Everyone's eyes followed him as he passed, and then the whispers started.

"—ard his brother killed everyone."

"He's the last one left, right?"

"How unlucky," Ichiko sighed, twirling her hair. "Sasuke-kun is still so cute, though."

Ino swiveled to glare at her. Everyone whispered like Sasuke couldn't hear them. Like he wasn't sitting by himself, staring into space. And Ino… didn't want to hear about it, not when she could remember the Uchiha begging Itachi and the masked man for their lives in perfect clarity.

"Don't say that," she said sharply, moving to put on her sweater. With the windows open, the morning air was unsurprisingly chilly. Ichiko startled, before looking down, ashamed. Ino wished she could sit next to Sakura, but Sakura…

Sakura had left Ino in the meadow and told her Ino they were no longer friends, just a few weeks before Ino's coma. A year after they had become best friends. Because Ino had been growing her hair out, and Sakura thought that meant they both liked Sasuke. And, well, looking at Sasuke now reminded her of his relatives dying, and _how_ they died, so Sakura might be alone on that front, but…

Sakura didn't want to be friends anymore, and Ino wasn't sure how to deal with that. It was easy to maintain a rivalry, even easier to like the most popular boy in school. But she… she missed her. Missed sleepovers and showing Sakura around the flower shop. Missed watching Sakura grow more confident. Missed Sakura's random facts about everything, because Sakura was a walking encyclopedia and knew tons of things that Ino didn't.

Sakura wouldn't tell her Hitomi was a hallucination—Sakura would figure out who and what Hitomi was. But it didn't matter, because her former best friend had taken up a seat far from her, and did not look at Ino.

When it came time to eat, Ino picked at her lunch alone underneath one of the Academy trees. She opened her sketchbook, trying to draw the lunchyard. She wasn't the best at it, but it was distracting, and helped Ino not have to focus on anything.

And without having to focus on anything, the world…lost meaning. Or maybe it was just her. More and more, (definitely more than she had ever told Mayu-san) the world felt like the same dreamworld from the genjutsu everyone talked about her surviving. Nothing hurt this time, but nothing felt real either. Ino's eyes were on the picture in front of her, but the colors looked more like a blob than flowers and picnic tables. Her grip on her pencil didn't feel real. Her hands didn't feel real either.

A faint rustle to her left caught her attention. Ino blinked madly, trying to regain feeling and sensation. She glanced up to see Choji crunching some potato chips. Next to him, Shikamaru shuffled his feet.

Neither of them looked all that comfortable. Ino's brow furrowed. Normally, none of them talked during school, only hanging out at InoShikaCho practices or weekly family dinners. Shikamaru and Choji usually hung out by themselves. Ino stuck with the girls in class, but they were all talking about Sasuke, so Ino had decided to move away from the picnic tables.

"Uh…" Choji scratched his head. He stuck out a chip bag. "Do you want one?"

Ino stared at him, still trying to blink the world and herself back into sensation. "What?" The dreamlike sensation hadn't completely faded—it felt like Choji was talking to her through a pane of glass.

Choji looked hesitant. "You looked lonely," he said, still holding out the bag. "Can we sit with you?"

At least she knew Choji and Shikamaru weren't going to talk about Sasuke. She nodded slowly, and reached into the bag. The chip felt rough against her finger, but she kept rubbing the pad of her thumb against it, one of the only things that made her feel grounded to earth.

"You….can have more than one," Choji said awkwardly. Ino nodded, and slowly crunched down on the chip, now scrubbed of most of its flavor. The barbecue wasn't half bad. Shikamaru flopped down beside her, already curling into position for a nap. Choji looked vaguely panicked, seeming to struggle for something to say, before he glanced down at her sketchbook.

"What are you drawing?"

Ino showed him her work so far. She had colored in the grass and added a bit of blue for the sky. She had drawn some of the flowers that dotted the grass, and the tables, but hadn't drawn the other kids yet.

Choji smiled. "This is really good!" He peered closer at the book, careful not to get any crumbs on the page.

Ino smiled back. It felt only a bit robotic to her. "Thanks!"

"You both are too loud," Shikamaru groaned, turning over. He didn't look too beat up about it, though. Ino saw the way he kept glancing at her from her peripherals.

"Hey, Shikamaru," she said, grabbing another chip to thumb over its rough surface. He opened one eye. "You slept during class, right?"

It was something he did every day without fail. Ino thought he slept at least 14 hours a day. For the past few weeks, Ino had essentially done the same.

Shikamaru shrugged as a response. It was the best she'd get.

"What did you dream about?" She asked, hoping she didn't sound too desperate. Ino didn't know how much she missed dreams until they were gone.

Shikamaru opened his other eye. He stared at her, silently, for a moment, then sighed, and began a winding story about searching the forests for the best cloud watching spot, and being chased by wild deer that yelled like Auntie Yoshino. She wasn't sure if it was true; it sounded a bit like Uncle Shikaku's stories, but Ino found herself laughing alongside Choji. Shikamaru fell asleep almost right after his story. Sitting under the tree, Ino could understand a bit, how Daddy, Uncle Shikaku, and Uncle Choza got to be such good friends.

* * *

Inoichi was on a warpath. Maybe the Hokage's secretary could tell, because the timid man saw him, squeaked, and ducked into the Hokage's office. His last conversation rung in his ears.

_"Do you have a moment?"_

_Inoichi stepped aside to let Yūko in. She spared no time on the flowers, only raising an eyebrow at the decidedly offensive bouquet in Inoichi's hands. He placed it on the counter, noting Yūkos clenched hands and pinched brow._

_"What's the matter?" He asked gently. She breathed out harshly, and nodded a head towards the flower shop._

_Most Yamanaka worked in the shop at some point or another and knew the layout of the store, including the warded back room. Yūko slapped a palm on the silence seal, and sank into a chair._

_"I looked into the Uchiha Sasuke case," She said, staring at the table. Inoichi frowned._

_"Okay? What's wrong? Is the practitioner struggling? Did Sasuke-kun stop attending?" It would take some finagling, but if the Hokage signed off on his treatment, Sasuke could be mandated to attend. Inoichi had no issues with that route. At the moment, Uchiha Sasuke needed help more than most in Konoha, even Hatake Kakashi._

_"Inoichi," she sighed, "there is no case. Uchiha Sasuke isn't being seen by anyone."_

_He blinked. And blinked again. "One more time?" That couldn't be right._

_"I asked our practitioners during our case briefings, and no one had the case. I asked around the clan to see what happened. Toshiaki-san said he finished the treatment plan you gave him and sent it to the Hokage."_

_Her killing intent flared. "The Hokage didn't approve the plan."_

There were no sane reasons for the Sandaime to not sign off on Uchiha Sasuke's treatment. As he was not a genin, he remained a ward of the state. He had survived a genocide and mental torture, from his brother no less. For the love of all the gods, he lived in the same compound of the murders!

Inoichi hoped it was sheer neglect, papers that had been misplaced, some administrative error, but…

_Minato wouldn't have done this._

From there, his darker thoughts rose. This was the same Hokage who enforced a gag order on all of Kushina and Minato's friends, wrapped in enough force and red tape to punish a person, a clan, if they didn't comply. This same Hokage who had left Minato's son as an abandoned orphan. The very same Hokage that took a broken boy who never should have been in Anbu in the first place and made him a captain.

 _Older shinobi are not adjusted for peacetime_ , he thought. The Sandaime had led Konoha through two wars. He was undoubtedly strong, and undoubtedly….neglectful. Maybe this was all the Sandaime thought peacetime could be. But how do you maintain peace without maintaining the people?

Inoichi pasted on a smile as the trembling secretary came back. "The Hokage will see you now, sir." He nodded his thanks as he was let inside.

The Sandaime sat with a pipe behind his desk. Inoichi could sense 6 Anbu hidden from view.

Inoichi bowed. "Thank you for seeing me, Hokage-sama."

The man in question smiled, before gesturing towards a seat. "Please sit, Inoichi. Tell me, how is your daughter?"

He breathed out. "She's adjusting. Ino just returned to school today." It hadn't even been four hours since she had sat down with them to eat. Inoichi hoped she was doing well.

The Sandaime gave him a genuine smile, full of relief. "I'm glad to hear it. What brings you here today?"

"I've come across a troubling issue, and I wanted some clarification," Inoichi started carefully. The infinite number of wrinkles in the Sandaime's forehead deepened.

"At the time of Ino's coma, I was drafting treatment plans for Uchiha Sasuke, in the wake of the Uchiha Massacre. When I heard of Ino's condition, I gave my plans to another Yamanaka clan member to finish and send for your approval."

Inoichi observed the man's expressions. "It has just come to my attention that Uchiha Sasuke is not receiving psychological care. I wanted to ask if there was an issue in the proposed treatment plan."

Shifting the blame onto himself was passive-aggressive at best, gave the man a way out at worst, but Inoichi needed to understand what was going through the Sandaime's head.

The Hokage leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on Inoichi. "At the time of the massacre, I asked the Anbu watching him to survey Sasuke-kun, and let me know of any concerning behavior. From the reports I've been given, Sasuke has been coping well in the circumstances, and psychological treatment was deemed optional, but not necessary."

Silence. Inoichi blinked dumbly at the Hokage. His jaw clenched down enough to hurt.

 _Inhale, Exhale._ In a moment of madness, Inoichi debated treason. It would be child's play to put the anbu in a mind destruction technique. The Sandaime was still the god of Shinobi, but far past his prime—6 of the strongest Anbu wouldn't do him in, but would certainly be a distraction. With the Anbu working on him, Inoichi could join in the fray of beating some sense into the Hokage.

_Inhale, Exhale._

His head cleared, and the moment passed. Inoichi blinked, and worked his jaw.

"With all due respect, Hokage-sama—" what the ever-loving _fuck_ "I strongly believe Sasuke needs an evaluation from our center, as well as continued care. I cannot understate the effects of genocide, let alone at the hands of his eldest brother. That doesn't even begin to cover Itachi's mental torture, as well as Sasuke's continued residence in his family home."

He shouldn't have to persuade this man to sign off on Sasuke's support. Who gained from an isolated orphan nearly driven mad?

Inoichi's fingers stilled. That was a thought, one'd he'd have to come back to later.

"It would be detrimental to Sasuke's health to be left alone in the wake of that tragedy." With a heavy heart, he realised he could substitute 'Sasuke' with 'Naruto' and the words would remain true. When they all finally pass to the Pure Lands, Kushina would stab him in the chest with her chains.

"I will consult with my guard to address the issue," The Sandaime said after a pause. He stared at the crystal ball on the desk. "It appears that Sasuke-kun has returned to school as well today. There must have been some mistake."

Some mistake, all right. Inoichi knew just who to go to address that issue.

* * *

"Man, I forgot how boring school was," Shisui sighed by the window. "Granted, I was only here for two years before they sent us to war, but still."

Sasuke shot Shisui a look, and his cousin raised his hands placatingly.

Iruka-sensei started a lecture about elemental signatures, and Sasuke was trying to pay attention, but he knew most of these things, and he was accidentally writing Shisui's stream of consciousness. Other than that, the Uzumaki ghosts were watching Naruto flick pieces of paper around the room, while a Yamanaka woman and a Nara stood next to Ino. The Nara woman rolled her eyes at Shikamaru dozing in his chair.

Fusao had been right, Sasuke did have to go to school, otherwise his group of Anbu watchers would most likely never leave. It only took Sasuke three weeks to head back.

He had wanted to start his search for the other Uchiha in those weeks, or any clues of them, but his mother watched him like a hawk, along with the rest of the clan. Outside of the clan…. people. kept. staring. They watched Sasuke as he went to the market, on his way to the training ground, or the library.

(They watched Sasuke the few times he bought too much food and dropped off groceries at Naruto's apartment, but no one said anything to him.)

Sasuke started writing the names of the disappearing ghosts in a small notebook, but it seemed like every day some disappeared and some returned. Sasuke couldn't track whether they were leaving just to visit friends or hang around the village, or because someone had stolen their eyes. Most ghosts wouldn't talk to him about it either.

"Sorry, Sasuke-chan," Noriko-san had said one day, trying to poke his cheek with a translucent finger. "I'm not sending you on a wild goose chase. Mikoto-sama would hunt me down." She smiled at him, eyes flashing red, and flickered out of existence to hang out with Akihito-san.

(She disappeared a few days later.)

Sasuke had double-checked the clan records. With a shaky hand, he updated the records since the Massacre. By all accounts, he and Itachi were the last Uchiha alive. Who could the last Uchiha be?

A cold breeze brought him back to the present, where Shisui waved a hand in his face. "Oi, Sasuke, you have to pay attention! Or else you'll never get out of here."

"You can leave if you want," Sasuke muttered under his breath. Shisui rolled his eyes, beaming like the sun.

"Not a chance! You can't get rid of me that easily." His eyes weren't flashing as much today. Sasuke took that as a good sign.

(He also couldn't deny how his chest warmed at the comment.)

Soon, they were called out for lunch, and Sasuke sat as far away as he could, watching his classmates eat as he picked at his bento. Most of the other ghosts left once everyone walked outside. The tree he was under didn't help the humidity, but he'd live with it.

"You know, you could try sitting with someone. It's a good way to make friends," Shisui said. He glared at his cousin.

It wasn't like he really had friends in the class before—Aburame Shino was fine because he kept quiet, Hyuga Hinata didn't stare at him like the other girls did, Nara Shikamaru minded his business, but none of them were friends. They were just slightly more tolerable than the others in class who crowded his desk and stared at him, though most of the girls left him alone today, instead crowding around a picnic table. Sasuke hoped that was permanent.

Shisui floated around the area. "Is this class only clan kids?" he whistled lowly. "More than that, man, they stuffed this class with heirs and spares, didn't they? Hyuuga heir, Inuzuka spare, Aburame heir, Akimichi heir—"

He stilled, and gazed toward the trees on the opposite side, where Choji and Ino sat, laughing, while Shikamaru lay on the grass. Shisui's eyes flashed.

"Sasuke," Shisui blurted, still squinting towards the trees. "What's the name of the Yamanaka in your class?"

His brow furrowed. Why did Shisui care? "Ino, why?"

"No reason," came the dazed response. His gaze shifted abruptly, and Shisui looked towards the swings. "Look! It's Naruto."

Naruto… he swiveled his head to find the blonde, and there he was, out by the swings, dipping what appeared to be….a celery stick….in his ramen. Sasuke shook his head slightly. He had put a bag full of vegetables by his doorstep a few days ago.

Next to Naruto, the Uzumaki ghosts puttered about.

"Benjiro, he's finally eating vegetables!" One woman crowed with a surprising amount of pride. The bells in her hair rang loudly, but instead of the shrill noise he heard at the market, they sounded lighter, more melodic.

The bells of the man next to her rang in harmonic response. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Next to them, another man pointed towards Sasuke. He tried not to stiffen and looked down at his cut-up tomato in his bento, snagging a piece to pop in his mouth.

"It's the Uchiha kid, he's the one leaving the bags by the kid's door."

The bells stopped. "Huh. Why's he doing that?"

A third voice. "I don't know. I always thought the Uchihas were stuck up bastards."

At that, Sasuke's head shot up instinctively, glaring at the third redhead. The ghosts quieted.

"Did he—"

"Yeah."

"Holy _shit_."

Sasuke looked back down at his bento, but it was too late.

"Oi! Uchiha-kun!" One shouted. Sasuke ducked his head. "Can you hear us?!"

In a second, the ghosts had materialised in front of him. The earlier humidity spiked, now nearly unbearable. Sasuke startled, and his bento tipped sideways. The kaarage, onigiri, and tamagoyaki he worked _so hard_ on tumbled to the grass. He mourned the fallen food, before glaring up at the ghosts.

"What?" he hissed under his breath. The woman of the group smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. The gesture was so _Naruto_ that Sasuke stared at her for a moment, speechless.

"Sorry about your lunch, Sasuke-kun. We just wanted to thank you for giving the hatchling vegetables. Kid's never gonna grow otherwise."

Sasuke nodded slightly. He was sure no one was looking, but talking to thin air was a surefire way to draw attention he didn't want.

The shorter man of the group, the one Sasuke thought was Benjiro, nodded back. "You're alright, kid."

Before he could say more, he heard Naruto's shout, and he and Kiba rolled in the grass. Benjiro shook his head.

"Bet you the Inuzuka's gonna win," The woman said.

"Na-na-mi," Benjiro replied, with mocking disapproval, "doubting an Uzumaki? Who would have thought?"

"Inuzuka's already got his ninken, though," the third man chimed in, crimson curls bouncing. "2 against 1."

Benjiro looked offended. " _Aito_! Not you too." Nanami smirked.

"C'mon, I want a front-row seat." She turned to leave, but paused, before turning back to Sasuke. Nanami gave him an odd smile with bright red eyes, holding her palm flat against her chest.

"May the great turtle lead your path, may the dragon protect your crops, may the tiger guard your back, and may the vermillion bird guide you home."

The men looked at her, before turning back to Sasuke, repeating the gesture. Sasuke blinked. A light cough drew his attention, where a wide-eyed Shisui stared at him pointedly, before repeating the gesture. Sasuke followed, placing a hand on his chest.

With one more chime of bells, the Uzushio trio left. Sasuke could hear them cheer as Naruto rolled on top of Kiba.

"An Uzushio blessing," Shisui whispered. "Grandpa Kagami used to tell me about those." He smiled at Sasuke, before holding a hand over his head. Shivers wracked Sasuke's body. "Looks like you're already making friends, huh?"

* * *

Inoichi didn't think he'd find Hatake Kakashi in the village. If the man wasn't at the Memorial Stone drowning in the most profound guilt complex he'd ever seen, he was out on an Anbu mission with his suicide squad. Surprisingly, though, Inoichi sensed the electric chakra on one of the training grounds.

He watched Choza's student Gai and Kakashi in a no holds barred taijutsu match. The two shinobi blurred together, so fast that Inoichi didn't even try to keep up. He flared his chakra out of politeness, and the match ended with Hatake being kicked into a tree, breaking the trunk immediately.

"Inoichi-san!" Gai greeted. Inoichi still remembered Choza gushing about his new genin team, Gai, Genma, and Ebisu, at their family dinner over a decade ago. The little boy in a red scarf had become a powerhouse.

"Gai," Inoichi said, smiling. Inoichi didn't interact with many from Gai's generation, mostly Ibiki, and Gai was one of the friendliest, despite his eccentricities. "I'm afraid I need to borrow Kakashi for a moment."

Gai nodded. He turned to his friend, who still brushed wood chips off his grey anbu flak jacket (and wasn't that just the biggest red flag, that Kakashi never took off his Anbu gear, like the idea of an identity outside of Anbu was foreign to him).

"Kakashi! It looks like we will have to reschedule our youthful spar! Our score remains the same!"

"No," Kakashi said, "I got distracted. You won that fight, so we're tied 65-65."

Gai smiled brightly. "Alright! I will pull ahead in our next altercation!"

"Whatever you say." Inoichi could see how the fabric around Kakashi's face twitched slightly, like the man was holding in a grin. Another reason Gai was high up on Inoichi's list of favorite brats.

Gai left in a whirlwind of sound, and it was just Kakashi and Inoichi on the training ground.

"You must be busy, with everything that has happened," Inoichi said to the younger man. Kakashi shrugged, leaning on one of the few upright trees in the clearing. He fixed Inoichi with a blank stare.

"I'm sure you've been busy as well, Inoichi-san."

Inoichi repressed the urge to sigh. It wasn't that he disliked Kakashi, not at all, though many members of the clan who worked in Anbu's paltry psychological services would firmly express their discontent with the man who escaped every checkup. Kakashi was a shining example of why mental health was necessary.

His issue came with the idea of history repeating himself. Kakashi walked into his clan's estate to find Hatake Sakumo's corpse, and lived there for years afterward. As a chunin already, he couldn't be forced to seek help, but Inoichi wished he was. If not then, then in the wake of his teammates' deaths. May the gods rest his soul, but Minato never should have sent this boy into Anbu.

"You're on Uchiha Sasuke's guard. You send reports to the Hokage," Inoichi said tonelessly, because there was no use beating around the bush. "Did you truly believe Uchiha Sasuke needed no psychological care after the Uchiha Massacre?"

Kakashi's visible eye widened minutely, and Inoichi got his answer. His clenched fists relaxed.

"Ah, no. Not at all," Kakashi straightened from his slouch. "In fact, I recommended Sasuke see someone. I thought the kid didn't agree."

"The Hokage's reports from Anbu say the opposite, apparently."

At this, Inoichi expected some surprise from Kakashi, or confusion. What he did not expect was anger. For a moment, the Hatake's killing intent spiked, and the bone-chilling nature of the very air felt oppressive. His face darkened, looking, for just a moment, more beast than human. In the next moment, the killing intent dissipated, and Kakashi slumped against the tree once more, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Somehow Sasuke-kun warded the compound," Kakashi started, looking exhausted. "It's solid work. No sound gets out, and to most, no vision. Just chakra signatures. Without a sensor on our squad, we wouldn't know anything. I have no doubt that Kushina-nee helped Uchiha Mikoto with some of the wards and seals." The man's voice wavered slightly, but he continued.

"The wards were never meant to guard against the Sharingan, though," he said, tapping his hitai-ate. "And Sasuke-kun moved into a new house in the compound last week, but he…. talks to himself. All the time. Or stares into space. Or cleans the floors like clockwork, once a day at least."

 _Coping well, my arse_. Inoichi swallowed his frustration. "How could the reports say something so different?"

"We drop our reports off at Anbu headquarters, where they're sent to their appropriate offices or redacted, to avoid multiple anbu rushing the Hokage at once. If someone changed the reports…" Kakashi trailed off. He turned that single-eye stare back at Inoichi.

"Sasuke's gone back to school, so the watch is off. But I'll deliver a report in person to the Hokage, and check on what's happening in Anbu."

Inoichi stared hard at Kakashi. Maybe…. this time, history wouldn't have to repeat itself. He nodded a head towards the Hokage tower. "Let's go."

* * *

Iruka tried to believe in himself as a teacher. He had just turned 17, and as a first year sensei, he was told he was doing well. His students seemed to like him, his class (Naruto and Kiba, mainly) was rowdy but not unbearable, and he could go home most days in somewhat of a good mood, knowing he was helping the future of the village.

Now, he had never felt more out of his depth.

He had spent the night before class staring at two updated files for his students: Yamanaka Ino and Uchiha Sasuke. Iruka wasn't sure where to start.

6 weeks before, in the aftermath of Itachi, the Academy canceled classes for the week. Monday came, and students went back to class, subdued and upset. Iruka only had one Uchiha in his class, but he had heard from his friends, the ones who came back to classes with bloodshot eyes and trembling hands, who had to sit with crying children who didn't know where their friends had gone and try to explain. Kiyomi's class had the twins Kato and Ryu, Emi had Chiaki, Fusao, and Aimi.

("Ryu was terrible at chakra control, and Kato was so bossy," Kiyomi said, blank-faced and pale at their graves. Her shoulders hunched as she sobbed.)

15 Uchiha children had been in the Academy. That didn't count the children who were under 8 years old, or the civilian children, or the ones who had just graduated. He'd watched his friends grieve, mourned the lost futures with them. All he had been told by the Sandaime was that Sasuke was safe.

In that haze of horror, he barely registered Ino's continued absences, until one of the sensei from the older classes, Yamanaka Fuji, stopped into Iruka's office to give him the news.

("A coma," he had said, looking incredibly fatigued. "No one knows if she'll be back.")

Iruka waited a week, and then two. He started a lesson plan for Ino and Sasuke, revising each week they didn't come back. Inoichi came to Iruka after five weeks to let him know that Ino would return to class, giving him a spare pair of bracelets Ino had to wear in class unless they were doing chakra exercises, and an ominous warning to contact him or another Yamanaka immediately if Ino fell asleep and couldn't wake up.

The warning had confused Iruka immensely, but in looking at the neatly scrawled _extensive time-dilated Genjutsu torture_ in Ino's file, Iruka felt like throwing up.

Most details were redacted, but Uchiha Itachi's name was marked as suspect. No wonder, considering the torture and the Massacre occurred on the same night. Sasuke's file also read _extensive time-dilated genjutsu torture_ , as well as _genocide_ , and a hundred other words to describe the tragedy the boy's life had become.

Iruka had taken last night into the morning to tweak his plans. He was entirely out of his depth, and trying to get two traumatised children up to speed before final exams would not be easy. But he'd do it.

He watched as Ino came back into class, and barely spoke to her friends, before beginning to draw in a sketchbook. He watched Sasuke sit at the back of the class, tuning out his lesson.

Iruka hoped this would work.

* * *

The bell rang, and Naruto actually cheered, before running out of the class. Sasuke rolled his eyes as he gathered his books together.

"Naruto!" Iruka-sensei bellowed. "You still have detention. Get back here."

"Ugh, sensei!"

The instructor's eyes flashed dangerously. "Sit back down, or no more ramen!"

Sasuke could almost hear Naruto's jaw snap closed. In the back of the room, Uzumaki Nanami laughed.

"I didn't think I would make it," Shisui groaned, lying in midair across the desks in the front. Naruto stomped through Shisui on his way back to his desk, and his cousin yelped. Sasuke couldn't help a small smile.

"Ah, Sasuke-kun, Ino-chan, can you stay for a moment?" Sensei asked. Sasuke frowned at his instructor, but made his way to the front. Iruka-sensei had already given what seemed to be the obligatory condolences people say when they see him. Across the room, Ino smiled at one of the other fangirls of the class, before walking to stand next to Sasuke at the front of the class.

Iruka-sensei's eyes filled with the same pity he'd seen in the market. His gaze shifted between them. "First, I wanted to express how glad I am that you both are back in class. Everyone's missed you, and I'm so sorry about the circumstances."

Weird. Sasuke shot a quick glance at Ino, who stared back at Iruka-sensei. On his other side, Shisui made a choked noise, but Sasuke couldn't turn to him to read his expression. What did Ino have to do with this? Where had she gone?

Their teacher brought out a few papers. "Final exams are in a couple of months, and I want to make sure you both are prepared. That being said, I've created a plan to get you both back on track—it should take the rest of the term, but by final exams, you'll both be caught up. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, do you think you both could stay after school for an hour or two? We'll take breaks and it will be a more relaxed version of class, I promise. I've cleared it with your parents, Ino." Iruka-sensei winced slightly.

"I don't mean to exclude you, Sasuke. Would those days work for you too? If not, we can—"

"That's fine," he interrupted. Iruka-sensei's face relaxed slightly. His mouth quirked in a small grin.

"I know you'll both do fine. You're already the top two students of the class. We'll be going through some chakra exercises, history, math, reading, and some sparring." Iruka-sensei looked apologetic. "We usually match up partners by gender, but we can't with our circumstances."

It didn't matter to Sasuke. Surprisingly, Ino said nothing either.

"Hey, Ino!" Naruto called from the back. The girl in question turned slightly. "Where were you, anyways? Your family didn't—"

"Naruto!" Sensei interrupted sharply. "Don't finish that sentence." Naruto shrunk in his seat. Next to him, Benjiro and Nanami shouted apologies. Iruka-sensei sighed, before turning an apologetic glance to Sasuke. Next to him, Ino's face was blank. Sasuke had more questions than answers.

"I'm sorry you two. Today is Monday, but let's meet for the first time on Wednesday, okay? And if you have any questions, or just need someone to talk to, please, feel free to talk to me." Iruka's eyes, this time, landed on Sasuke. He nodded, shifting his feet. He was ready to go home.

"Do you have any questions?" Sasuke shook his head. Next to him, Ino said nothing.

"If you're ever feeling tired or need a break, please let me know." And this time, his eyes rested firmly on Ino. She nodded minutely.

"I think my parents are waiting to pick me up," She said, uncharacteristically quiet. "I have to go." Iruka nodded. Ino turned to face the door.

"See you tomorrow, Iruka-sensei. Sasuke-kun."

And she was gone. Oddly enough, Sasuke would realize later, she never looked Iruka-sensei or himself in the eye.

* * *

Ino felt worn out. She exited the classroom to see her mother, who smiled brightly and began walking her home. The sun hit the rooftops of Konoha, people smiled at her on the sidewalk, but nothing felt close enough. Real enough.

"How was school?" Mom asked, a warm interlocked with Ino's. Ino tried to focus on it, but it was hard to stay attached, hard to stay tethered to herself, hard not to drift from everywhere and everything.

"It was good," Ino said with numb lips. She wished she had another one of Choji's chips, to rub back and forth and back and—

"That's good," Mom answered. "I know you're meeting with Mayu tomorrow, so how about we do something fun today?"

Ino just wanted to crawl into bed. "Can I walk around the Garden?" she asked instead. Her parents remained adamant about her getting as much physical exercise as possible. Mom stared at her for a moment, before nodding.

Back at home, Ino walked past her immediate family's part of the compound, past the flower shop, and towards the Gardens. At any time, Ino could usually find a few of her cousins milling the grounds, picking from the rows of flowers for the shop or laying by the fountain near the shrine to their patron goddess, Konohanasakuya-hime.

Today, Ino traced the stone steps alone to sit by the fountain. Sakura trees lined the path, getting ready to bloom in just a few months. Ino watched the water ripple near the lilypads, and dragonflies buzz through the air.

She stared at her reflection. Ino had the same blonde hair, blue eyes. Same face as usual.

(Why didn't it feel like hers, though?)

Time passed in a blink. It was daytime, and suddenly, the sun sat on the horizon. Her mother shook her from her position, almost sending Ino into the water.

Ino blinked slowly. "Mama?"

"It's getting cold out here, sweetie, and dinner's almost ready. You should come inside." Mom looked worried. Ino sighed. She was supposed to convince them she was fine.

"Your father needed to step out for a moment, he'll be home soon." Ino nodded and began getting ready for dinner.

* * *

Yamanaka Ino and her mysterious absence disappeared from Sasuke's mind once he made his way back to the compound. He had a missing Uchiha to find, he had to help his clan, and…

He stared up at the small house towards the outskirts of the compound, closer to the village than any other home.

Sasuke had a house to finish moving into.

It wasn't Sasuke's idea to move. The opposite, really. But his mother had sat him down two weeks before he headed back to discuss heavy topics, staring at him as he ate dinner.

_"Sasuke," she said, strangely hesitant. "Have you thought about your Sharingan?"_

_Sasuke looked up from his noodles. He hadn't activated his eyes yet, and he hadn't thought of them recently. He shook his head. Mother's lips pursed._

_"You activated your Sharingan after the clan fell," she said softly. Her eyes flashed, and suddenly, a Sharingan with three tomoe stared back at him. Sasuke stared openly. He hadn't known his mother even had the Sharingan—she'd never activated it around him._

_"When you wake up at night, your eyes seem to activate for a moment," Mother murmured. "I think…. the nature of what happened would make it more difficult for you to use your Sharingan. I'm sorry, Sasuke."_

_Sasuke looked down towards the floor. He'd always wanted to gain his Sharingan—he thought Father would be proud, and they'd celebrate._

_(He awakened his Sharingan at the same age as Itachi. Who would have thought he'd catch up to his brother in something?)_

_"And on the subject of memories," she said, "I think it may help you to move out of this house."_

_Sasuke choked on his rice. He glared at her as he drank his water. There was no way he'd leave the Compound. He could deal with the blood on the wood and the way he crept around Itachi's room. It didn't matter if he had to scrub the floors every day. He'd do it. He'd deal with it._

_"No."_

_"Sasuke—"_

_"I'm not leaving the clan." Sasuke couldn't believe she'd even suggest it. (Almost) everyone was here—where else would he go?_

_(Why would she want him to be alone?)_

_"I'm not saying leave the compound, Sasuke, but no one would blame you if you did," Mother said. In a blink, she kneeled next to him, hovering a translucent hand on his shoulder._

_"A lot of houses, this house specifically, hold difficult memories for you. Someone should have helped you—" her eyes flashed black and red in anger, "and they didn't. But I don't have to be a doctor to tell you that this house isn't healthy for you."_

_"Then where do you want me to go?" Sasuke asked, pushing rice around his plate. He no longer felt too hungry._

_(He didn't want her to be right.)_

_"Shisui's house," Mother said simply. "It's closer to the wards, so you'll know immediately when someone tries to break in. With a smaller area, we can teach you more seals to make the house secure, something you can't do in this house. Clan members had cleaned Shisui's house shortly before… everything, after his body was found. It's smaller, so there's less space you'd need to clean." Mother and Sasuke both knew that space wasn't the reason he cleaned, but he didn't comment on it._

_Shisui's house… was empty that night. There was no blood on the floor. Shisui's body hadn't been found there, cooling for Sasuke to find. It was a house he hadn't gone into often, since Shisui had always popped up around their house. He'd still be close to his relatives, he'd still be close in the compound._

Sasuke could admit it wasn't such a bad idea.

And once he decided on moving, the clan helped him immensely. Masae-obaa recommended taking her curtains, Auntie Hana recommended her cooking supplies. Hisoto-san told him to take the instruments from his home.

(After losing a staring contest with his best friend, he took Fusao's comic books as well.)

It was rough work, but Mother had shown him how to make some storage seals, and soon enough, his belongings, Auntie Hana's pots and pans, and Hisoto-san's shakuhachi, biwa, and koto were safely packed.

"I know it's only been a week, but you can't have forgotten how to open the door already." Sasuke looked up at Shisui, who grinned slightly. He rolled his eyes.

Sasuke fumbled with his new keys, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Shisui's house had two bedrooms, a living room, and a small kitchen. Shisui's excited rambling had led him to a hidden ladder in the living room, leading to the roof.

The entire place was spotless, if a bit dusty—thinking about it, Sasuke realised the clan moved quick: they would have doled out Shisui's weapons and clothing, or stored some for the upcoming coup-that-never-was.

(It didn't stop him from scrubbing all the floors once.)

Most of his items had been moved into the new space in the past week. He hadn't put anything in the living room besides Hisoto-san's instruments, and he had put his bed in the larger of the two bedrooms. He'd have to go shopping for some furniture at some point, but besides sleeping and eating, he was barely there anyways.

Sasuke jumped as Fusao apparated in front of him. His best friend's eyes flashed once, twice, then went completely black. His body turned towards Shisui, who looked pained.

"Shisui-san."

"Hey Fusao!" Shisui's smile was just a little strained. "How have you been? How's Aimi?"

Fusao shrugged. "She's here." He turned to Sasuke, eyes still cavernous pits.

"You're back later than usual," he said. "Come on, Aimi's in your room."

Of course she was. Sasuke rolled his eyes, before turning to Shisui.

"I have homework," (he didn't) "so I'll see you later—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're kicking me out of my own home," Shisui interrupted, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. His mouth quirked in a grin as he waved.

"I'll see you three later." He phased out of the door.

* * *

Sasuke read through his list of disappearing relatives. So far he had 10: Noriko, Fusao's father, Asumi, Kato, Hazuki-san, Yashiro-oji, Mitsue-san, Kousuke-san, Umeko-san.

"No, Yashiro-oji is here," Fusao interrupted, lying on Sasuke's bed. Sasuke would be upset if he had an actual body. "I saw him this morning."

Sasuke crossed out Yashiro.

"Izumi-nee isn't here," Aimi said, frowning.

Fusao turned. "Itachi did something with his Sharingan, and I think she passed on."

Aimi's jaw dropped. "And you didn't tell me sooner? I've been looking for Izumi-nee for _ages_. How do you know she passed on, anyway?"

"Maybe if you stayed in the Compound rather than _disappearing every two seconds_ , you would have known," Fusao snapped, eyes flashing red before disappearing once more. Sasuke looked up from his notebook sharply. Fusao didn't snap. Ever.

Aimi looked particularly puzzled (and a little hurt), but she hid it well. "I was trying to find people like you were! It's not my fault you decide to stay cooped up here. Why are you getting mad?"

"Because unlike you, I'm actually making an effort—"

"Is everything okay?" he interrupted tentatively, because Aimi and Fusao fought before, but never like this.

"Don't look at me," Aimi said, huffing. Fusao stared at her with the same empty sockets, before sighing.

"Hazuki-san told me before she disappeared," he muttered. "Apparently, Itachi used his Mangekyo, and Izumi's heart stopped, and when her spirit rose, it burst into light, and she was gone."

Sasuke wondered what she saw. It was definitely far from what Itachi had shown Sasuke if her spirit could pass afterwards. He was happy Izumi was able to rest peacefully (and bitter, but he tried not to linger on that, because he wasn't sure if he was jealous of the fact that Itachi had shown her something peaceful, or that she died that day and he didn't).

"Anything on the other Uchiha?" Sasuke asked. Aimi shook her head.

"It could be someone who was on a long-term mission," Fusao pondered.

Sasuke's nose wrinkled. "But I thought no Uchiha was on missions the day of…" he trailed off. Aimi's dress flashed with blood, and she shrugged.

"Maybe they missed one?"

"Danzo was thorough, though." Fusao said, frustrated. His eyes had started flashing more and more, and he lost his patience more and more. "I don't know if he would have missed anyone."

The more emotional they got, the more cold the air became. Sasuke wrapped himself in a blanket.

"But… you think Konoha made them do it too?" Aimi asked softly. "Maybe they're wherever Itachi is."

If that was the case…. that wasn't good. Mainly because Sasuke had no clue where Itachi had gone. And, well, what would he say to Itachi? He still had to punch Itachi in the face at some point, but what would come after? Sasuke didn't know.

Searching for clues gave him something to do, and it was the distraction he needed. Something that kept him from staring into space for hours, something that made the nightmares worth something. They reminded him of what he needed to do. They reminded him that if he really tried, he could get more of his family back. He could get Father back. He could stop Fusao's eyes from disappearing the way they did when he got upset.

Shisui looked just as frustrated as he did, some days. On the days he came back to the compound, he surveyed the group with one eye, scanning for who had disappeared and who came back. He did not appreciate Sasuke's offer for help.

"It's fine, short-stack," he said, hovering his hand over Sasuke's head like always. "nothing for you to worry about."

Which…. was untrue, and unfair, because if there was one thing Sasuke valued after the Massacre, it was honesty. Without them there, Sasuke would have been left alone to raise himself on Itachi's lies. If they couldn't live, Sasuke wanted to protect their afterlives, as best as he could. Shisui didn't get it.

* * *

Shisui interrupted them by phasing through the wall, looking a bit confused.

"You've got a visitor, short-stack. I don't think you've met him before. His name is Yamanaka Inoichi." Shisui jabbed a thumb towards the door. "He's been flaring his chakra for a minute now, you might want to get out there."

Yamanaka Inoichi….Sasuke frowned. He had no idea who that was. Someone from the Yamanaka clan, but Sasuke didn't truly know anyone from the clan besides Ino, and she was barely an acquaintance.

Sasuke slipped on his shoes and headed out.

"Watch out, that man's a master interrogator," Auntie Katsu called. The others near her nodded in agreement, muttering about minds and transfers. Sasuke didn't think he did anything worth being interrogated over.

The rest of his clan members were silent, watching with spinning red eyes as a blonde man in a ponytail stood just outside the compound, with an uncanny resemblance to Ino. Mother stood by the barrier, tense and waiting. She wouldn't be able to do anything even if the man had come here to attack him, but the fact that she would try made something in Sasuke warm. Shisui stood on his other side.

"May I help you, Yamanaka-san?" he asked.

"Good evening, Sasuke-kun," the man greeted. He noticed the man had no pupils, and Sasuke wasn't sure if the Yamanaka was looking directly at him.

"There's something I needed to discuss with you in private. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Tell him no," Uncle Hiroki said from behind him. "We have no business with the Yamanaka."

" _Had_ , Hiro," Auntie Katsu reminded. "But there's no reason for a Yamanaka to be here."

"Maybe the Hokage sent him," another relative called. Someone wailed in response. Sasuke tried not to wince.

"In that case, it may be best to let him in, before they try another method. Amaterasu knows Sarutobi will do whatever he wants, anyway." Mother said, sounding weary. Shisui shifted in his peripherals.

"Sasuke-kun?" Yamanaka Inoichi prompted. Sasuke blinked rapidly. Stupid—he couldn't acknowledge the ghosts while he was here.

Sasuke flared his own chakra, a trick he learned from Shisui, and the Yamanaka was allowed in. He walked side by side with the man, watching him take in the dark compound. Sasuke wondered if Inoichi-san could feel a hundred eyes on his form.

"You returned to school today, right?" Inoichi asked. "My daughter Ino is in your class. She came back today as well."

So he was Ino's father. But why had Ino been gone so long?

He forgot he didn't have furniture in the new house, so he abruptly turned, heading back to his (old) house.

The sun was just beginning to set, but he could still see the dark houses and alley cats. A few mewled in the quiet—Sasuke tried to feed them, but there were too many. Aimi's cat, Kiyoshi, butted Sasuke's hand as they continued their silent walk.

Sasuke opened the door and flipped on the lights. It looked the same as it always did: wooden floor, a step leading to the family room, paintings on the wall.

So why was Sasuke's hand shaking?

He led the man to the family room, gesturing to one of the chairs. Sasuke didn't think he could sit before Inoichi did, but the man stood like a statue in his peripherals. He shoved both hands into his shorts and turned to face Inoichi—

And Inoichi was staring at the bloodstain on the floor.

"I—you…." He cut himself off, looking again at Sasuke. "I was told by your Anbu guard that you had moved," he rasped, eyes wide.

Sasuke didn't like the sheer horror in the man's eyes. "I'm still moving. I don't have furniture in my new house yet."

Inoichi stared at him, before folding into a bow, longer and deeper than he should have. Sasuke's eyes widened, and he instinctively took a step back. Someone behind them inhaled sharply.

Mother didn't understand. "What in the world is Inoichi doi—"

"I wanted to express my sincere condolences for your family, Sasuke. More than that, however, I want to apologize for how you've been left alone the past month. It's absolutely unacceptable, and had I known earlier, I would have stepped in immediately."

None of his relatives knew how to take that information, especially not Mother. "But how could he not have known?" she asked, sounding a bit dazed.

Surprisingly, Shisui spoke up, strangely subdued. "I think he's been busy the past few weeks with his own crisis."

"Shisui?" Mother asked, but he didn't clarify.

Sasuke didn't know what to say.

(He thought nobody living had cared, but if they did, why did they wait? And if people cared that he wasn't left alone, gag order or not, why didn't they do something about Naruto's case?)

Inoichi rose swiftly and stared at Sasuke. Realizing he should respond, Sasuke inwardly panicked, and a dazed, 'okay', left his lips. Shisui snorted behind him.

The Yamanaka didn't look upset with Sasuke's answer. He continued, saying, "I've spent time with the Hokage this afternoon," someone hissed in the background, "going over some finer details, but there's an apartment open for you near Shibuya—"

"I'm staying here," Sasuke interrupted. Mother's disapproving face came into view, and he relented. "Sorry. I'll be staying in the compound."

At this, there was a slight break in Inoichi's expression, a slight wince that reminded him of the people at the market and the Hokage when he lied about the clan's massacre. Sasuke's frown deepened.

"Are you sure, Sasuke-kun? There are people who can help you move, and it will be closer to the Academy."

If his family wasn't still here, if he couldn't see his family cold and dead but present, he may have said yes. A space as far from the blood and memories as possible would be ideal. But his Sight was forever twisted, and it didn't matter if the rest of the village saw the Uchiha compound as empty. It had never been more full to Sasuke.

"I'm sure."

Inoichi nodded slightly. "I want you to stress that you are not alone in this time, and if you change your mind at any time, please let me know."

Sasuke nodded. Inoichi's face blanked once again, and he handed Sasuke a sheet of paper. On it was the name Yamanaka Yūko, an address, and sample calendar, marking off specific days—Tuesdays and Thursdays at 4:30 PM.

"You may find it beneficial to talk to someone about how you're feeling. Yūko, my clan member, works at the hospital, and would love to see you."

He didn't really want to, so he handed the paper back. "No, thank you." Most of the people he wanted to talk to were around him.

Inoichi frowned a little. "I'm afraid this part isn't optional. Once you become a genin, you'll be considered an adult, but at this moment, you're a ward of the Hokage." Inoichi flipped the paper, and Sasuke glared at the top signature at the bottom of the page. _Sarutobi Hiruzen._ Yamanaka Yūko's signature was underneath.

"Since the Sandaime signed off on your case, you must attend. I think it would be really beneficial to you."

He couldn't look at his mother or Shisui, but he listened for their reactions.

"I'm surprised," Mother said softly, looking over his shoulder judging by the cold against his neck, "I didn't think Inoichi would do anything. We were never close."

"It could be a trap," Auntie Katsu warned. "The Hokage could read notes from the sessions."

Mother scoffed. Sasuke looked from the paper to Inoichi. "Would the Hokage receive the notes from the meetings?"

Only Inoichi's widened eyes gave away his surprise. "Yūko may or may not take notes, session to session. She'd see the notes, and your general doctor may see abbreviated notes if they are important to your physical health care. Besides that, no one views your notes."

"It may not be the best idea to bring up the fact that you can see us, but otherwise, it's not a bad idea. Quite the opposite, really," Mother mused. And that's what sealed Sasuke's answer.

His (reluctant) nod satisfied Inoichi, who gave him a small smile. "I'll leave you then. Thank you for meeting with me, Sasuke. Please let me know if there's anything else I can do to help."

Sasuke walked the man out of the Compound, and headed back to Shisui's house, head buzzing with questions. Why did Yamanaka Inoichi care about (him) his case? Why had Ino missed so much school?

* * *

Dinner was quiet. Dad barely ate, complaining of nausea. Ino could have tried to talk, maybe, but there was no energy left in her. Ino traced the black band of her Yang bracelets. In another hour or so, she'd lay down and spend the next 8 hours listening to her parents whisper about her health.

Ino was tired. The world was barely real, colors and shapes barely registered in her vision, the words of her parents sounded distant in her ears, and Ino was exhausted.

She looked up from her zosui to her parents. Her father smiled as she met his eyes. He looked exhausted. Her mother did too. All she wanted to do was make them not worry. All Ino wanted to do was dream again.

"You don't have to watch me sleep anymore," Ino said, taking a spoon of her soup. The zosui tasted like warm water on her tongue. Ino knew how delicious her mom's recipe was—the lack of everything wasn't the dish, it was just her. "I have the bracelets, so it's okay."

"Are you sure? We don't mind," her father said. "We just want you to be okay."

We just want you to be okay. Guilt sat in her stomach, because a plan formed in her head, one of exhaustion and desperation and the need for answers and regaining normal when nothing else was.

"It's fine."

Mom and Dad touched hands over the table, sending a message Ino was no longer allowed to hear. After a moment, Mom sighed, but shook her spoon at Ino teasingly. "Okay, sweetie. You win. But we'll check on you in the morning, alright? If you're not up five minutes after your alarm goes off, we're coming in." The concern in her voice threw off her teasing expression.

She nodded.

Ino finished her meal, brushed her teeth, and headed to bed early. Mom and Dad double-checked the bracelets on her wrists. At last, they were satisfied, because they kissed her on the forehead.

"Sleep well," Mom murmured. Her eyes were a little wet. "Don't let your mind wander too far."

Her parents had stopped saying the farewell after her coma. For them to say it again…. it was one step in the right direction.

Dad shut off the light and closed the door. Ino watched the crescent moon outside her window, framed by bare Sakura trees. Either she'd figure out what went wrong, or she wouldn't. But she'd get answers.

 _Sakuya-hime_ , she thought, a little desperately. _Please watch over me._

With a deep breath, Ino rolled to her side, back facing the door. She took off the yang bracelets, and her already low energy plummeted. She couldn't keep her eyes open.

In seconds, she was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, dun!
> 
> Hi. It's been a while. This chapter is a Big Boy, a little over the length of two normal chapters for me. I was going to split it up, but it made no sense when everything was happening in a very short time frame.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


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